What Are You?
by Nikkette
Summary: To Daryl Dixon, Carol Peletier was many things. Chronicles the hunter's thoughts throughout the seasons on the woman he came to know, and what he thinks of her now. Caryl vignettes all the way up to season 5's mid-finale.
1. There

**A/N: Just another one of those ideas that literally just zap themselves into your brain. Hope you like it.**

**Reading time: 1 min.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Chapter one: There~<p>

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><p>For the longest time, Carol Peletier was just <em>there<em>.

To Daryl Dixon, she was just some woman who cooked and cleaned and occasionally washed his clothes.

She wasn't vital to the group's existence.

She wasn't useful.

She wasn't _loved_.

Hell, if it weren't for the other women mentioning her name every now and then, she'd be little more than a shadow.

If it were up to him, she wouldn't even _be_ there with them, in the group. All she ever really did was housewife stuff and look after that little girl and piece-of-_shit_ husband of hers, and there were plenty of other women that could easily take her place were something ever to happen to her.

In fact, he'd kick _half_ of 'em to the curb if he had it _his_ way. Hardly a damn one of 'em worth a shit, save for himself, his brother, the cop and the old guy. But he couldn't do that, because he wasn't in charge of the group.

He wasn't the leader. Shane was. And Shane wanted them to stay. Wanted _her_ to stay. It irked him, but none of the others ever caused him grief or started trouble with him, so he supposed it was doable for the time being.

Daryl huffed angrily as he stalked up to the edge of the lake and shoved his dirty vest into Carol's hands.

She looked at him, slightly shocked and maybe a little scared, but she took the garment nonetheless.

The other women stared on, pausing in their washing duties as she gave him the smallest of smiles, and he stuck his chin out in a semi-nod of acknowledgement before turning on his heel and walking away.

She wasn't important.

She wasn't special.

But she was there.

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><p><strong>AN: I'll try and update this once a day, since every chapter is pretty much less than a page long.**

**Anyway, feel free to review or whatever.**

**'Til next time! :)**


	2. Irritating

**A/N: 12/18/2014 Thank you, wildcow258 and Prettyprincess45 for your reviews. You guys are such faithful readers. I love you guys. Lol :)**

**Reading time: 2 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Chapter two: Irritating~<p>

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><p>As the days went on, Carol came to be more of a presence, if only by a small notch.<p>

He began to notice things.

Like how she was _constantly_ checking to make sure her daughter was okay, or the way she kept her eyes down when she was around people, or the way she spoke, with her words always so _smooth_ and _crisp_ like she was so 'educated' or 'better than everyone' or some shit.

But possibly the most obvious thing he noticed, was the way she acted around her husband.

She would always keep her head down and talk to him real low, like she was a child asking for something that was completely out of the question. And she always did whatever he told her to. If he wanted an extra helping of food, she would get him some, even if there was hardly enough to go around as it was. If he wanted her to rub his feet, she would. Hell, if he told her to jump off the _quarry_, she'd probably do it. Damn woman was a liability, a threat to the whole group.

He wouldn't say it, but her husband was a dumbass. And it would only be so long before he asked for something that got him into trouble or compromised the safety of what little they already had. And she would help him do it, too. And that was what _really_ grated on his nerves.

Daryl watched from his place by the fire as Ed grabbed Carol by the arm and spoke menacingly into her ear.

She nodded submissively and he released her, brushing past her to go do whatever the hell he pleased as she glanced back at his retreating figure with timid, worn eyes.

Her daughter, Sophia (damned if the name wasn't burned into his memory by now, it made up about _half_ the woman's vocabulary) rounded the corner of the RV and smiled broadly at her, and Carol smiled and hugged her in return as she led her over to the fire so she could keep an eye on her and tend to the roasting squirrels he had caught earlier that day, not seeming to mind in the least that he was already there first.

She may not have been completely useless.

She may have been loved, if only by her daughter.

But she was still a pitiful excuse of a woman.

And to him, she was just plain irritating.

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><p><strong>AN: Up next: Quiet.**

**'Til next time! (Well, tomorrow)**


	3. Quiet

**A/N: Thanks again to wildcow258 and Prettyprincess45 for reviewing, and to Terp4life and hellsheep (love your pen name, btw). I hope you enjoy these all the way to the last chapter, which will end at season 5's mid-finale :)**

**Reading time: 2 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Chapter three: Quiet~<p>

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><p>The day that Ed Peletier finally croaked was like silent music to his ears.<p>

A newcomer, a cop that knew Shane and the woman with the annoying kid, had recently joined their camp. He automatically disliked him from the moment he realized he had left his brother to die on a rooftop, but eventually begrudgingly came to admit to himself that after he had arrived, things started to go more smoothly with supplies and group morale. But that was _before_ the camp was attacked.

It was nothing short of a massacre.

A lot of people died (not that he would miss any of them) and one of those people happened to be Carol's husband. He had already been pretty worse for wear - Shane had beat the shit out of him when he saw him hit Carol. And to be honest, if the ex-cop hadn't, he probably would have done it himself eventually. He was sure of it.

Daryl watched as Carol took the shovel he had handed to her and brought it down on Ed's skull.

At first he wasn't surprised, considering the 'undying love' and 'loyalty' the woman held for the man - why would she want to see her husband come back from the dead as one of those _things?_ - but then she raised the shovel to hit him again. And again. And again.

He watched as she cried and sobbed and bashed her former husband's brains in, and in that moment he decided that she wasn't quite so pathetic anymore, so annoying for taking all that shit from Ed all those weeks he'd known her.

She handed him the shovel when she was done and walked away, trembling, to rejoin the rest of the group.

In the many hours that followed, she didn't say a word.

And it was then that she became something else to him, something he always assumed he would prefer but found he didn't.

She was quiet.

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><p><strong>AN: Up next: Weak.**

**See you tomorrow!**


	4. Weak

**A/N: 12/20/2014**

**wildcow258****: I agree about that moment with Carol and Ed's death; I think that was the moment where Daryl really started to 'see' her too.**

**Salovi****: I can't really say about the length of the chapters. I try to keep them short (less than two pages) and I've only got this written up to chapter 9. But we'll see how it goes. Chances are the chapters will get longer, what with Daryl's 'thoughts' and 'feeeelings' and all. Thanks for the review ;)**

**Terp4Life****:** **Thank you, and I'm sorry! I'll see what I can do about the chapter length (as I've said I've got these written up to chapter 9) but this thing practically writes itself, so we'll just have to see :)**

**Reading time: 2 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead~**

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><p>Chapter four: Weak~<p>

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><p>When they found the CDC, it seemed like a <em>Godsend<em>.

Except that he didn't believe in miracles, and though they had electricity and food and running water, it was surely not meant to last.

They all enjoyed their first night with hot showers and great food. They _gorged_ themselves on soda and wine and instant potatoes, smiling and joking like it was the greatest thing in the world and they had nothing to worry about. Like there _wasn't_ an endless horde of walkers and ruin outside the steel-reinforced doors.

Though to be honest, it was kind of hard _not_ to enjoy it, however long it lasted. The air was light and the laughter was plentiful, and the supplies seemed limitless. There was no reason _not_ to be merry.

Carol had started talking more.

She seemed to get over Ed's death pretty quickly, and now that she was free of his reign, she seemed to be a happier person. Her daughter, too.

Daryl watched as Carol tossed a spoonful of corn into Sophia's waiting mouth across the table while everyone laughed and ate and savored the last decent meals they would probably come across for a long time, and smiled.

It had been a long time since he'd smiled. Sure, it was probably because he was drunk, but he'd take it over scowling and feeling like shit _any_ day.

And in his drunken stupor, he suddenly decided that, in that moment, he was witnessing a somewhat slow and shifting evolution of the quiet, mousy woman before him.

She was no longer annoying. Or quiet. Or stupid, or dumb.

But she wasn't strong, either. And he didn't look forward to the moment when her lack of strength failed to save her daughter.

It wasn't her fault - he supposed there were plenty of women who were just naturally meek and mild and soft-spoken - but it didn't change the fact.

To a drunk Daryl Dixon, she wasn't hopeless.

At the moment, she was simply weak.

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><p><strong>AN: Up next: Alright.**

**See you tomorrow!**


	5. Alright

**A/N: 12/21/2014 Thanks again to Prettyprincess45 and livonce for reviewing (I can't put periods between words or it'll disappear altogether for some reason), it means a lot :) **

**wildcow258: Thank you! I really wanted the changes in Daryl's thoughts to be subtle and believable. I'm glad you think I'm doing such a good job, because I love writing from inside his mind! ^^**

**Reading time: 4 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Chapter five: Alright~<p>

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><p>After the CDC failed to be a place of refuge, they stumbled upon a farm.<p>

They had the cop's _idiot_ son to thank for it, him getting shot and all. Still, it had pushed them in the direction they needed to go for a hot meal and a roof over their heads.

Carol had lost Sophia. A herd of walkers passed them while they were trying to fix the RV on the highway, and Sophia had run away and never come back. As a result, Carol became frantic. She was constantly fidgeting and worrying and looking in every direction, often to the point of tears. He'd be damned if her eyebrows weren't _stuck_ in that worried frown by now.

Rick had originally been the head of the search, but as the days passed and evidence grew thin, he had taken it upon _himself_ to go look for her, to keep searching when no one else would. Granted, he never ended up actually _finding_ anything, but he still combed the woods every morning and every night just in case. It annoyed him to no end how they could all just give up so easily, just because it wasn't _their_ kid who was missing, wasn't _their_ problem. The more he thought about it the more it burned his insides, and the more determined he became to _find_ that little girl.

Carol had started crying again.

Just when she had started to get better _this _mess had to go and happen. And it was hardly encouraging when he came back to the RV at the end of the day to find her bawling her eyes out. Not to mention hard to sleep.

He _wanted_ to be irritated; he hardly got any shut-eye nowadays thanks to her endless tears. But knowing that her _child_ was missing, the _one_ thing that made her happy in this screwed up world, and that _he_ was part of the reason she wasn't holding that little girl right this minute, he couldn't bring himself to be. And it was on one of those sleepless nights that he decided to go out and do something about it.

Daryl held tightly to the flower in his hand, nearly crushing it with his grip, as he entered the RV.

It had been another unsuccessful search, and with everyone's nerves wearing thin, he figured he could at least soothe the mourning mother whose shoulders beared it all.

He stepped silently towards the back of the RV to the sobbing woman on the fold-out bed, and quietly placed the single white flower in an empty beer bottle and set it down on the counter. No, it wasn't some 'fancy shit vase', but it was the best he could do on short notice.

He turned to leave, but stopped when he noticed Carol had stopped crying.

She looked up at him, wiped her eyes, and then glanced at the flower.

He fidgeted under her gaze, or rather the kindness in her gaze, and in order to overcome his sudden feeling of uneasiness he decided to explain the nature (or rather, meaning) of his gesture. Didn't want her thinking he was sweet on her or nothin'.

"It's a Cherokee rose," he said, and already he felt his awkwardness disappear. "They'd be given to grieving Indian mothers, because they believed it would protect them and their children's spirits."

Carol's eyes saddened considerably at the thought of childless mothers, and he immediately wished he would have just kept his damn mouth shut, but then she smiled and looked at the roses, and when her eyes filled with tears he knew it was out of appreciation and not contempt.

"...Thank you," she said after a while, and he knew she meant it.

He nodded, then swallowed down his nervousness as he shifted his feet.

...

...

...

Abruptly he turned on his heel and left, trying not to just _run_ out of that _heat-box_ of an RV in the process.

His cheeks burned and the back of his neck felt like it was on _fire_, and the fact that it was over a hundred degrees that day wasn't helping.

It may have been embarrassing as all get out to give her that damned flower, and he may have beat the living _tar_ out of anyone who had so much as _seen_ a glimpse of him and Carol, but now that it was over it hardly mattered.

She appreciated his efforts in finding her daughter, and she appreciated him.

Carol was alright.

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><p><strong>AN: Up next: Sincere.**

**I didn't remember the conversation about the Cherokee rose exactly, but I knew the gist of it. I _could_ have gone back on Netflix and reviewed it real quick, but I didn't want it to just be a bunch of dialog that you've already heard anyway. Regardless, I hope it was good enough for improv :P**

**See you tomorrow!**


	6. Sincere

**A/N: 12/22/2014 This was one of my favorites to write ;)**

**wildcow258****: Thanks again. I'm glad you think I'm doing such a good job! ^^**

**Terp4Life****: ** **Aww, thank you! ^^ **

**Reading time: 2 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Chapter six: Sincere~<p>

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><p>Though further evidence of Sophia's whereabouts continued to be less than fruitful, he still searched.<p>

And Carol appreciated that.

He knew she did; she let him know every _five_ minutes. He _would_ say it was annoying, but they were past that now. Because it _wasn't_ annoying, being told you were needed, liked, wanted. Essential to the survival of others. In fact, he doubted if it would ever get old. But of course, it was too soon to tell.

Eventually, his hard work paid off.

He had to fall off a horse and get stabbed with one of his own _arrows_ to do it, but he found it; he found Sophia's doll.

Carol had been elated to see it, or at least he pictured her being elated - he had been rushed to the farmhouse after that bitch Andrea shot him in the head (thank God she was such a terrible shot and the bullet had only grazed him) so he didn't get to see her reaction.

Daryl lay in bed in one of the guest rooms of the farmhouse, resting on his side as he waited for the painkillers to kick in for his ribs and head.

Carol had come in moments before, giving her thanks for finding the doll and telling him he was every bit as good as Rick or Shane or anyone else and trying to make him 'feel better' and shit.

At first he had thought she was sucking up, just trying to get him back on his feet faster so he could go out and search for Sophia again since he was pretty much the only one that even _wanted_ to now, but then he realized that she meant every word, with a conviction that almost shocked him.

And then she'd kissed him, and all bets were off.

Carol smiled warmly down at him and left the room, and Daryl fought to hide the incredible heat that flooded up the back of his neck and into his cheeks as she shut the door.

He didn't bother glancing at the food - he knew he was going to end up eating whatever it was anyway. Besides, after that, he practically _owed_ it to her. And he _hated_ owing someone something.

But it didn't change that she had truly meant what she'd said, and the words were meant only for him, and him alone.

As he turned carefully around on the bed to face his dinner, he acknowledged that she was still weak. But she was also something else.

Aside from being nice and kind and caring and motherly, Carol Peletier was something that a lot of the others weren't.

Sincere.

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><p><strong>AN: Up next: Broken.**

**See you tomorrow!**


	7. Broken

**A/N: 12/23/2014 Wow, I wasn't expecting so many reviews! Thanks, guys!**

**Guest****: Aww! Thank you so much, guest reviewer! *hugs* I hope you like this one and all the ones after :)**

**wildcow258****: Yeah, it's a pretty great moment in the Caryl universe. Lol I love your use of the word prickly XD**

**Tlozzy****: Thank you, for _both_ of your reviews ;)**

**Poppy P****: Yeah, it is. And you're welcome! My goal is to have these done before then, and if I can keep going at the rate I'm going now (one a day) I should be done in roughly 2-3 weeks! :D **

**jj****: Thank you! I most definitely will! *salutes***

**Prettyprincess45****: Thanks again. I'm so glad you look forward to email alerts for this story. And don't worry, I won't! I have no intention whatsoever of stopping now :D**

**Terp4Life****: And I can't tell _you_ enough how much it means to me that you like these. Thanks! :D **

**Reading time: 2 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Chapter seven: Broken~<p>

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><p>He had failed.<p>

Sophia was dead.

She had died, and become one of those _things_. A walker. A zombie. An endless reminder of what Carol couldn't protect and what _he_ couldn't find.

It made no sense. It wasn't supposed to be this way. He was supposed to _search_, to look and look and then look some more when all the others had long since given up, and then finally, when he was ready to give up himself, _find_ her.

She shouldn't have been in that barn. She should have been with _him_, walking for a mile or so through the woods and out into the clearing, across the fields and into the arms of her mother. It wasn't supposed to be this way. It made no sense.

Daryl held tightly to the now childless Carol, clenching his jaw as he watched Rick put a bullet between her daughter's eyes.

It had to be done.

It didn't make it any less painful.

Carol ripped herself away from him, tears running down her cheeks in _streams_. He tried to reach out to her. To touch her, give her some form of comfort, to let her know that she wasn't the only one hurting, the only one who'd _failed_, but she was having none of it.

She slapped his hand away, and, unable to cope with her grief, ran off towards the house, her sobs fading with the growing distance.

She had changed over the time he'd known her.

She wasn't just one thing anymore.

She was many things.

And now, because of _him_, because _he_ wasn't good enough, she was something else.

Broken.

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><p><strong>AN: Up next: Patient.**

**Don't worry, the next one won't be so much of a downer :P**

**See you tomorrow!**


	8. Patient

**A/N: 12/24/2014 It's Christmas Eve, everybody! And you know what that means? Of _course_ you don't, so I'm gonna tell you even though no one cares: I'm getting my gifts early! Woo! :D Oh, and I work on Holidays. Fanfics don't post themselves, haha am I right, Bob? *nudges ribs***

**wildcow258****: As always, thank you for your review. I'm glad you thought it was 'moving', so to speak :)**

**Guest****: I don't really understand your review, and I've read it several times. What are you trying to say? Is it positive, or negative? Regardless, I'd like to thank you for taking the time to type and post it. It means a lot :)**

**Prettyprincess45, SBR1222, and Terp4Life:****: Aww! I'm sorry! Both me and someone else read through it before it was posted and neither of us teared up, so I didn't think a tissue warning was necessary D: I'll keep that in mind for future chapters. Thanks for your reviews! :)**

**Idk if this one needs a tissue warning. I'd say it doesn't, but pace yourself.**

**Reading time: 3 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Chapter eight: Patient~<p>

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><p>It had been a few days since Sophia's death.<p>

Carol grieved, and she grieved alone.

He wanted to comfort her, to tell her it was alright, that it was gonna be okay. But he didn't know what it was like to lose a child, let alone your _own_, and he knew she didn't want anyone to give her any false sympathy. They could all throw her one big pity party that lasted an entire _week _if they wanted, but at the end of the day not a single one of them would know what it was like to lose their child.

He could never hold a _candle_ to the unbearable grief that woman must have been feeling, and if he went and tried to make it better he would only make it worse, and then she would lash out at him and never talk to him again and then he would have_ no one._ And so he kept his distance.

Besides, for all he knew, a herd of walkers would storm the farm and then he wouldn't have _anyone_ to tell him how important he was, how much he meant to people, how much he _could_ mean to people. And then he would miss it, miss _her_, and then _he'd_ be the one feeling bad. And he didn't want that.

So when she'd spontaneously come to his tent one day, carefully secluded from the others, asking him to join in on some group discussion that was going on at the house, he had brushed her off, not wanting her or anyone else to get all close and 'touchy feely' with him, lest he only make things worse.

And she'd left, just like that. She didn't push or press or urge him to jump head first into something he was hardly familiar with. He didn't know how to handle _people_ - the very _word_ was foreign to him! And she knew that. She respected his feelings, and so he would respect her.

He told himself it was for the best, and in actuality it was, but in the end, her stupid damned kind words and his stupid damned freaking brain got the better of him, and he followed after her into the house not two minutes later.

Daryl awkwardly leaned against the screen door of the farmhouse, crossing his arms as everyone stared at him, every one of them surprised.

Everyone but Carol.

Heat collected at the back of his neck from being gawked at, being _scrutinized_, but he had made a decision, and he was sticking to it.

He was staying.

Whether Rick or Hershel or anyone else liked it or not.

The conversation quickly carried on, and he spared a glance at Carol.

She was smiling at him.

He gave her a nod, and focused his attention on the debate at hand, chewing away at his thumbnail.

Carol was getting to be many things, and now, even despite the fact that she was still mourning the loss of her daughter, she wasn't giving up on him.

She was patient.

He'd give her that.

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><p><strong>AN: I actually had this chapter planned to come _before_ the previous one, but then I realized that the whole 'farmhouse debate scene' happened _after_ Sophia died, so I changed some stuff and flipped it around.**

**Also, has anyone noticed the 'new' document editor on ff? More specifically the lack of a spell checker? That makes me mad. That makes me real mad }:(**

**Anyway, see you tomorrow.**


	9. Saved

**A/N: 12/25/2014 Another one of my favorites to write. Merry Christmas, you lovely souls!**

**wildcow258****: Yeah, me too. And when I thought about it more deeply I was pretty amazed. Honestly, if it were me, I probably would have given up on all the stress and patience it took just to get him to be a part of the group, _especially_ if my daughter had just died. Thanks for your review, they are lovely together indeed :)**

**I love Fanfics:**** Welcome, recent Caryl fan! I gotta say, I love people like you. Who review every chapter even after they've long since been posted. Thank you _very_ much for your _boatload_ of reviews, I love every one of them! ;)**

**Guest: Thanks :)**

**Terp4Life****: Thank you! I'm glad you think so ^^**

**Reading time: 3 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Chapter nine: Saved~<p>

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><p>Just as he'd suspected, the farm wasn't meant to be.<p>

It had been a nice setup, while it lasted.

But then the horde came, and it - _everything_, the crops, the house, the animals, the fields - fell.

It was _H__ell_ trying to get out of there amidst all the chaos. Walkers at every turn, gun shots coming from every direction, the barn blazing, people dying, the group scattered. But it wasn't impossible.

The first and only thing on his mind at the time had been to hop on his motorcycle, grab his shit and _go_. Just get out of there. Screw everyone else. They were nice enough, but they weren't family. And they were probably dead, besides. No sense in sticking around when the world around you was going to Hell in a hand basket. And his plan had worked, for a few seconds.

But then he saw her.

Carol.

She was out by one of the barns, running from walkers. He honestly couldn't believe she was still alive - he figured she'd be one of the _first_ to go. But she was there, and she was alive, and he was the closest person to her for yards. And so he saved her, stopped his initial plan of ditching that Godforsaken farm and everyone on it, and prolonged her life for just a little more.

Daryl squinted in the darkness, trying in vain to see past the fog as he sped down the dirt road on his motorcycle.

Carol wrapped her arms tightly around his midsection, and although he couldn't hear it over the roaring of his bike, he knew that she was crying.

Not sobbing, mind you.

Just mildly, quietly crying.

He wasn't sure why; he didn't know if it was for Sophia, for the loss of the farm, for everything that had ever happened, or for another reason altogether. But really, it didn't matter. Because this had been the first time she'd willingly touched him since that moment at the barn, since Sophia's fate, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was a little much for him to handle.

He contemplated stopping and telling her to _get off his bike, she could walk from here_, but the thought passed as quickly as it came, and he realized that he was happy he'd saved her.

And as they rode down the skinny path and away from the burning sanctuary they had come to know and love, Carol molted her broken shell and gave way to become something else.

She was saved.

And if he had anything to do with it, she would be a survivor as well.

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><p><strong>AN: Up next: Funny.**

**See you tomorrow!**


	10. Funny

**A/N: 12/26/2014 Depending on you guys' time zone, I may have missed the daily update (it's only 9:37pm over here right now) but at least you're getting it now, right? I hope everyone had an awesome Christmas! (=^_^=)/**

**wildcow258****: Aww, thank you! I love it to bits when reviewers take the time to copy down their favorite parts of any given chapter, since I know ff doesn't allow you to just copy and paste. Yeah, I love that Daryl quote. It's one of my top favorites (I use it to trash talk with my sister all the time) XD**

**Prettyprincess45****: Thank you! :)**

**chemfemme****: Thanks ;)**

**Poppy P****: 'I'm sure she considered the fact that Daryl would knock her off his bike'. Lol! I loved reading that XD Thank you for reviewing! **

**Terp4Life****: Oooh thank you! I am _ecstatic_ this is one of those super special stories that you just can't wait for. Hope you like this one! ^^**

**Reading time: 3 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Chapter ten: Funny~<p>

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><p>It had been eight months since they had left the farm.<p>

They never stayed in one place anymore, not for more than a few days.

But then they found the prison.

It was bland and gray and dirty, but to them, it was Heaven. It was thick and heavy and cold and _safe_, and it had been so long since any of them had dared to use the word. It was overrun with walkers past the gates, but inside the fences, it was safe enough for them to spend the night. Rick had told them they would clear it out tomorrow, but for now, they would rest.

Daryl stood quietly with Carol atop an overturned bus, away from the others, as he chowed on the food she'd brought him. _You'd_ never _eat if I didn't bring you something,_ she'd always say.

They'd cleared out the walkers outside the gates so they could set up camp, and Carol had only just recently been weilding a gun (they'd practiced, but he didn't trust her to actually _use_ one in a real situation until the past month or so). They'd spent a lot of time together. And so he didn't miss the way she flinched and clenched her jaw when she twisted her neck to face him.

"...What's wrong?" he asked, and her gaze snapped up to his.

"Oh, just the..._rifle_, I'm...I'm not used to the kickback," she replied, wincing as she tilted her head and rotated her shoulder.

He paused in his chewing, swallowed, and set down the tray of food she'd brought him to give her his undivided attention. He made a swirling motion with his finger, signaling her to turn around, and she looked at him questioningly, but nevertheless obeyed.

His fingers dug into her shoulder, trying to get past the armor of bone and into the aching muscles, but immediately soothed his grip when she bit her lip to keep from making a sound of discomfort.

He continued to massage her shoulder for a few more moments to try and ease her pain, but then he realized that he had no idea what he was doing and people usually needed _degrees_ for this type of thing and this was _far_ too intimate for their kind of relationship, and then she looked at him over her shoulder and he just stopped.

He looked down at his feet, at the ground, at the fences - _anywhere_ but at the woman standing in front of him.

"...We should head back," he said finally, wanting nothing more than to move on.

"I dunno," she said, shrugging. "It's pretty romantic-" she gestured to the night air. "...Wanna screw around?"

He stared at her, eyes bugging out of his skull, cheeks flushing at her alleged invitation.

But then she looked at him and smiled, and then she burst out laughing, and then some of the red drained from his face and he could _think_ again.

He didn't know what else to say, so he decided to merely brush it off with a well-placed, "_Pfft_."

She laughed again, and he moved into a crouching position to hop down from the bus. "I'll go down first," he called over his shoulder.

She laughed. "Even better."

He turned his head to hide his smile. "_Stop_."

She only laughed again in response, and as he hopped off the bus and turned to help her down, he held back a chuckle.

As they made their way back to the group, a thought came to him.

There was something else he could add to the growing list of things that Carol was.

Funny.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Up next: Dead.**

**If anyone would like to share what they got for Christmas, I'm all ears. I love reading that stuff (I got a couple of video games, the Alien film quadrilogy, comics, candy, a spirograph, and a hair brush). You can just pm me if you don't wanna leave it in a review :)**

**See you tomorrow!**


	11. Dead

**A/N: 12/27/2014 This one's a lot longer than I intended it to be, though I'm sure _certain_ people won't mind (I'm lookin' at you, Terp4Life) ;)**

**wildcow258****: Yep! I watched the season 4 premiere with my dad, and I tried not to look too happy when it came to the scene with Carol and Daryl's massage skills. Thanks for reviewing! :)))**

**Prettyprincess45****: Thanks, and good to know! OOOH, you got the Walking Dead on DVD?! SO jealous! D: I've got all the episodes on Netflix, but it's still not the same as owning the physical copies. I really wanted Watch Dogs too, but it seemed like a hard M rating, so I was too iffy to buy it. How is it? Fun, I'm sure. Glad you've had a good Christmas, that's AWESOME sauce! :D**

**Terp4Life****: *Sigh*...have I mentioned how much I love your icon? No? Well let me say it then - I love your icon X3 On a different note, thanks for your review! I'm glad you're seeing the drastic changes Daryl has made over the course of only 10 chapters, and I'm glad you like where I went with them. I'm sure you'll love this chapter ;)**

**Reading time: 6 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

* * *

><p>Chapter eleven: Dead~<p>

* * *

><p>Dead.<p>

She was dead.

Dead, dead, dead, dead, _dead_.

And he couldn't do anything to stop it.

And to think that things were perfectly fine just hours before. They had been talking, laughing, joking like old friends. And then...

He wanted to blame Rick. _He_ was the cause of all this. If he'd been a better leader, _waited_ instead of going in to clear the prison head first-

_No._

He couldn't blame Rick. Because Rick wasn't to blame. _He_ was. It was _his_ fault he hadn't protected her, stuck by her, made sure she was safe. He should have trained her better, taught her more, kept an eye on her when things went to Hell. But he hadn't. And he only had himself to blame. They had lost a lot of people. He just never _dreamed_ one of them would be her.

She was buried now. Well, not really. But he had built a grave and a makeshift burial site all the same. She deserved that much. He gave her a proper burial because he thought it would make him feel better. 'Lift the burden from his shoulders' or some shit. Didn't work. If anything, it just made him feel worse.

What was he supposed to do with himself now? Who was going to be there to tell him how important he was or make him laugh or bring him food when he was too wrapped up in keeping the group safe to tend to his own needs? What was he supposed to do now?

Daryl sat on the floor in one of the halls of the prison, not even really aware of the near-mechanical movements of his arm repeatedly jamming his hunting knife into the concrete as the sound of the metal door scraping against the ground in front of him grated on his ears.

He wasn't sure how many times he'd done it, or how long he had been sitting there; he'd lost count.

He'd like to say he was thinking - and really, he was; his mind was _swimming_ with stray thoughts - but in reality, he was stalling.

He knew who - or _what_ - was behind that door, and truthfully, he didn't want to face it. Face _her_. Because then he would have to look at her, at the shell of a person he had come to know and care for and open up his stupid dumb heart to.

And then he'd have to _kill_ _her_.

He supposed it was some sort of cruel irony, having to put an end to the one person besides his own brother he ever really gave a damn about. Putting her out of her misery. He'd sat there for what felt like _hours_, wanting nothing more than to end this torment; both his and hers.

He never really wondered how it would feel to lose someone close to you, but he never dreamed it would be this bad. He wanted to curse, he wanted to cry, he wanted to take back every single mean and awful word and thought, he wanted to _die_...

And if anyone was going to be the one to end her, it would be him.

Not Rick or Maggie or Glenn or Hershel. Not anyone.

It would be him.

It had to be.

Because _he_ helped bring her into this new world, helped her survive for just a little longer. And it was only right that he be the one to take her out of it.

Daryl shot up from his spot on the floor and began pacing, deciding to just _do_ something before he lost his nerve.

He turned sharply on his heel and bent down to grab hold of the dead walker blocking the door, dragging it away and leaving it behind him in a bloody heap as he got his hunting knife ready.

He hesitated for the shortest of moments, but knew that he was going to have to face it sooner or later, and it was better now than never.

Daryl grabbed hold of the door and wrenched it open, arm already raised as he prepared to bring the knife down into the skull of-

_Carol?_

He blinked, or he _would_ have blinked if he even remembered how, and slowly eased his arm down as he stared into the eyes of the very _alive_ woman in front of him.

Carol lolled her head to the side, staring up at him from the floor with squinted, unfocused eyes.

Not believing what he was seeing, he put the knife away and reached forward, gently gripping her chin so he could get a better look.

It was her.

Anger bubbled inside him. She had been in there the _entire time_ just laying there and feeling miserable and he hadn't even had the guts to opened the damned door-

Pushing the self-demeaning thoughts down, Daryl bent down and scooped her up into his arms, wanting nothing more than to smile and sit there and hold her tighter than anything in his life but knowing he couldn't.

She needed help. She needed Hershel.

Getting back up, he carried her around the corner and down the hallway, hellbent on getting her to the others.

She looked like shit, but she wasn't dead. She was starved and malnurished, but she would live. She was gonna be okay. He would make sure of it.

Daryl quickened his pace.

He wanted to _cry_ with relief.

_She was dead..._

But in this case, 'was' was the most important word.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Up next: A Friend. **

**I don't actually have the next chapter typed up yet, and I still need to get all the other chapters in order (which to keep, which to drop, how to arrange them) but I'll try my best to keep this one-a-day thing going.**

**See you tomorrow!**


	12. A Friend

**A/N: 12/28/2014 Well, I went through all the Walking Dead episodes on Netflix today (well, the Caryl scenes) and I made myself a Caryl timeline. So I've MOSTLY got my stuff together. Which means it should be smooth sailing for me from this point on :)**

**wildcow258****: Yes, we do! Isn't it great? :D And ooh, I hope I killed you in a good way and not a bad one. I don't want tears! D: lol thanks for your review!**

**Ange****: Aww thank you! And do not worry, your English is fine! ^^**

**Prettyprincess45****: Thanks, and it's cool! I'll have to check out some Watch Dogs playthrough videos!**

**Poppy P****: Thank you for both of your reviews! I really love that scene too. At that point I thought it was obvious that Daryl loved Carol, it was really sweet and heartwarming. Sweet calendar, too! Props to your kids! :D **

**I Love Fanfics****: Thank you for your double reviews! I've played COD Black Ops, Black Ops II, Modern Warfare, Ghosts, and another one that I can't remember the name of. Advanced Warfare looked really fun though, so I'm sure you won't be disappointed. I read the first Divergent book a few months ago, pretty good. You might be 'eh' about it, but I think you'll like it overall. Your Walking Dead DVD collection is coming along nicely! Season 3 is essential for Caryl fans ;)**

**Terp4Life****: Ah, okay. Yeah, it can seem that way when you're used to reading/writing really long fanfics, hard to tell the difference in length. You're welcome! I love your reviews! :DD**

**Reading time: 4 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

* * *

><p>Chapter twelve: A Friend~<p>

* * *

><p>The news of Carol's 'springing forth from the grave' was music to the entire group's ears.<p>

Daryl had gone up to Rick to tell him the news, and was surprised when everyone else followed to see for themselves. Rick had been the first to see, and the first to hug her before anyone else, even himself. He deserved the comfort, especially in the middle of dealing with his wife's death. Unfortunately, however, the calm and happy atmosphere wasn't meant to last, and it ultimately shattered.

A newcomer, a woman with a hard glare and a well-kept samurai sword, had told them about an Asian and pretty brunette being kidnapped and taken to a place called Woodberry while out on their run - Maggie and Glenn.

Rick acted almost immediately, and now he, himself, and a few of others were heading out to save them.

He was a little overwhelmed with the task - he had only _just_ found Carol and now he couldn't spend any more time with her, stay by her side, help her recuperate - but it was something that needed to be dealt with immediately, and he needed to help Rick and the others to do it. Or rather, _they_ needed _him,_ as Carol would say. He smiled at that.

As the others packed and loaded one of the spare vehicles with supplies for their journey, Daryl walked up behind Carol as she held little Judith.

"Hey," he called, getting her attention. "Stay safe."

It wasn't much, but it was all he could think to say on short notice.

He never was good with words, let alone words connected to 'feelings'.

He just hoped she understood that.

Carol bounced slightly as she cooed to the infant in her arms, and she smirked up at him. "Nine lives, remember?"

Daryl's eyes brightened, and he smiled, feeling his antsy-ness and worry quickly flood out of him.

He lingered by for just a moment more, unsure if he should say something else or not, but in the end he decided to just leave it at that and go on to join the others.

She understood.

She understood _him_.

And that was more than he could have ever asked for.

As Daryl shifted away from her and walked towards the now loaded van, he realized that he was finally ready to admit to himself something that was obvious long before he feared her dead but wasn't ready to deal with amidst all their other problems.

It had _constantly_ been at the back of his mind throughout the past couple of months. it was a question so _simple_ and yet so complex that he just wasn't sure how to answer; _what was she? What was Carol to him? _Was she an acquaintance? A companion? A buddy? A person who he'd just happened to be alone with a lot and develop some semblance of a relationship with?

If he would have tried to cope with any of these questions just a couple of days ago, he wouldn't have been able to leave his mind satisfied. But now, after going through a premature grieving process and finding the source of his pain and sadness to be alive and well, he was ready to try and answer. Hell, he already _knew_ the answer.

Carol was something that was very hard to come across in this world.

She was something you could hardly ever find and could _never_ hope to replace once you did.

She was something that, throughout everything you had ever been through, from bad to worse, only took a glance before you realized that everything was gonna be okay.

She was a _friend_.

Tried and true. Thick and thin. Hell and high water.

She was a friend.

And that was more than he could have ever hoped to deserve.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Up next: A Memory.**

**Assuming I can keep going the way I've set out to go and stick to it, there will be a total of 23 chapters in this story. And I hope to see you there through all of them :)**

**See you tomorrow!**


	13. A Memory

**A/N: 12/29/2014 This one was hard to start, but was pretty easy once I got going. And just so you know, I didn't go all the way through to the time when Daryl and Merle fought and they ended up going back to the prison because all _those_ feelings will be covered in the next chapter.**

**WhatWhereWhen****: You have _no_ idea how good that is for me to hear. I'm SO psyched you love this story, and I'm glad it's to the point where you're willing to read _58_ chapters. Thank you for your review and support, it means the world! ;)**

**Ange****: You're welcome! :D**

**Prettyprincess45****: Nope! Not quite! I found a 'deleted' chapter that I was able to find a place for, so they'll be_ 24_ chapters! Mwahaha! :D And oh my gosh, you just made my week. Best Caryl writer _ever?_ Are you _sure_ about that? Err, don't think too much on that, I'll take it ^^ I've actually got 3 other ideas for Caryl fics, so stay tuned! And again, thank you so much for your kind and constant reviews, they always make me smile. I'm glad this is one of those stories you're constantly waiting for an update on, I know the feeling well ;)**

**AntoDixon****: Thank you, I'm doing okay! Argentina is BOSS, greetings from the bland U.S. :D**

**Terp4Life****: Thank you! I'm _endlessly_ flattered by your kind words. And aww! You think about this fic a lot? That gives me _extreme_ feels, like a warm, fluffy, _fuzzball_ of fluff just settled itself inside my heart. In a way that's gentle and doesn't mess with any of my internal organs and kill me. No, really. lol THANK you! \（*´▽｀*）/ **

**Reading time: 4 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

* * *

><p>Chapter thirteen: A Memory~<p>

* * *

><p>When they left to rescue Glenn and Maggie, he never <em>dreamed<em> he'd find his brother too.

Now that he thought about it, he wasn't even sure how it happened. One minute they split up to find their lost team members, and the next he was pitted against his brother in a fight to the death. It was crazy, and when he thought back to it, almost _insane_, but somehow they were able to get out of there and leave that twisted town together in one piece.

But instead of going back to the prison like they'd planned, he'd joined with his brother and broken off from the group. They'd tried to get him to stay - Rick, Maggie, Glenn; they all did - but in the end, family was the most important. _Merle_ was most important. His _brother_. His own _flesh_ and _blood_. So why did he have to convince himself of that fact over and over?

It didn't really matter, though. He was already miles out with his brother, and the others were probably already back at the prison. Rick was probably telling Carol about his desertion right now. Carol...

_What do you want us to tell Carol?_ Glenn had asked.

_...She'll understand,_ he'd said.

But _would_ she? Would she really?

He had _left_, gone away without so much as a word or goodbye. He didn't even have the guts to wait and tell her he was leaving himself. What kind of a chump did that? What kind of _loser_ just up and _left_ a person they had been to Hell and back with? How could someone _do_ that? What was _wrong_ with him?

It didn't matter. It was too late anyway. He couldn't go back now. He'd be damned if he was gonna show his face around there again. Around them again. Around her. He couldn't turn back now. He and his brother were headed to Yellow Jacket Creek, and from there, onward. And there was nothing that would stand between them again. End of story. Simple as that, nothing to it.

Daryl cleared his thoughts, picking up his pace as Merle called after him and beckoned him closer.

He jogged to catch up to him, weaving through trees and stamping his feet down on endless fallen leaves, his crossbow swaying side to side as he carried it.

He moved in front of him to lead the way to their destination, the creek, and fought the urge to cringe when thoughts of Carol and the others flooded back into his mind.

If _this_ was how it was gonna be for the whole trip, the _entire_ time he was out here (his whole life, basically) he wasn't sure he could cut it.

He just wanted to be with his brother, to pick up where they left off and move on. He did _not_ sign up for a lifelong guilt trip.

But the hardest part was that the decision was made. He couldn't go back. And despite all the things he had come to call Carol throughout their time together, he would have to suffice by settling on only one.

She was a memory.

Nothing more.

Just a shadow of a thought, a ghost of a person he used to know. She wasn't important, he didn't need her-

No. That wasn't right. Lying to himself wasn't making it any easier.

Okay, _facts_;

He didn't need any of the others to survive, only himself.

He had made a decision, and it wasn't her.

He was with his brother, and that was all he needed.

She was just a memory now, simple as that.

No bullshit. No fuss. Just cold, hard math. He could get through this. He _would_ get through this. He'd be with Merle 'til the end of his days, and nothing else mattered. He'd forget Rick, forget the prison, forget _her_, and he would move on, and then everything would be just fine. Everything would be fine.

Too bad he could never convince himself of that even if he tried.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Up next: Forgiving.**

**I think that when Daryl said Carol would 'understand', he meant it, but I also think that he said it largely in part to convince _himself_ of that fact, rather than the others. And when we didn't get some big Caryl reunion like in season 5 with hugs and tears and all that good stuff I think it was because he was kind of afraid that she would reject him for leaving (if I'm thinking straight, it was _Carol_ that went to find _Daryl_ when he came back, not the other way around) so I tried to illustrate that uncertainty here. I just hope I did a good job :/**

**Now, I've 'deleted' a few of the original chapters I was gonna have in here because I couldn't find a place for them, but I found a place that I could fit one of them so there'll be one extra chapter_._ And it just so happens that it's one of the chapters I was really looking forward to writing, so yay! :D SPOILER ALERT: the chapter is called Pretty.**

**See you tomorrow!**


	14. Forgiving

**A/N: 12/30/2014 To purposefully quote Barack Obama: "I know I'm a little late." XD Anyway, this is WAY longer than I intended, but I'm sure you'll love it.**

**wildcow258****: Thank you for your long review! I love those kinds :) Yeah, you'd think they would've been more considerate of Daryl's feelings regarding Merle. They let him go pretty easily if you ask me. Don't apologize for the rant, I love reading them (_very_ entertaining) ;)**

**hellsheep****: Wow thanks! I've only ever read one or two DarylxOC fics, but I can imagine how 'not Daryl' they can be. I'm glad you think 'my' Daryl is so in character :)**

**Laura****: Why thank you, Laura! ^^**

**Guest****: Yes, exactly! Couldn't have said it better myself. I'm sure Daryl's leaving hurt more than she let on, but I think things worked out for the best. Just think, if he hadn't left, that family at Yellow Jacket Creek probably would have died, and Carol never would have gotten stronger. Thanks for your thoughts! :)**

**Prettyprincess45****: YESSSS, look forward to Pretty! It'll be chapter 18, so just a few more days! Again, I'm SUPER glad you think I'm such a good Caryl writer. It means the entire _universe _to me :)**

**Terp4Life****: I'm sorry! Hopefully the feelings in this chapter will make it all better! :( Hm, quite the coincidence indeed. And surely you mean that you watched the 4th season of TWD on Netflix? They don't have the 5th one on there XD You may cease the stomping of the feet, for your daily fix is available :)**

**Reading time: 7 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

* * *

><p>Chapter fourteen: Forgiving~<p>

* * *

><p>Luckily for him, he wouldn't have to go on missing Carol and the others much longer.<p>

Only a few hours into their trip, he and Merle got into it. It started with an argument over directions - Daryl insisted he knew the way to get to the creek, and _Merle_ insisted he was just trying to lead them in a circle back to the prison - and ended with him stopping his brother from looting the car of a passing Mexican family.

He assumed it was just a slight hitch, an after-effect of having been separated from each other for so long, and they just needed time to get back into their grooves.

He was wrong.

They fought, they yelled, they argued, and after getting everything out in the open, somehow ended up back at the prison with Rick and the others.

It had been hard, convincing them to let Merle stay. But in the end, he was more important to them than any old grudges they still held over anything his brother had done, and they ultimately accepted him into the group.

Daryl sat in his cell, staring at one of his arrows and twirling it around in his hands.

Since they'd got back, he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Carol. But if he were being completely honest with himself, he didn't really want to.

No, that wasn't right.

He _wanted_ to, he just wasn't ready. Wasn't ready to face up to what he'd done, leaving her like that.

Not saying goodbye.

Not saying _anything_...

He knew she would probably be okay, but he still couldn't get over the biting thought in the back of his mind that maybe she _wouldn't_. Maybe she'd be mad at him and curse his grave and never want anything to do with him again. Maybe she already _was_. Maybe she already _did_. Maybe he should be hiding right now...

But then again, knowing Carol, he probably didn't have much choice in the matter anyway. Even if he _did_ hide, avoid her like the plague, she would find him. And he would have to fess up to what he'd done sooner or later.

Daryl's head shot up at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall, and his heart very nearly quit working as Carol rounded the corner to his cell.

She leaned against the doorway, effectively blocking any hopes of an exit, and sighed up at the ceiling.

It was silent for the longest of seconds, and he was stiff as a board as he waited for her judgement of his unintentional crime.

Carol lazily turned her head toward him, and he resisted the urge to swallow nervously as she opened her mouth to speak, a strange and unnerving glint in her eye.

"You know, I never got to tell you this," He braced himself. Here it comes. The moment where she tells him how angry she was that he left and that he could just crawl in a corner and _die_- "But I'm glad you came back." ._..What?_

"...To what?" He asked, prodding her. "All this?" He turned his head, gesturing to the small space around him.

"This is our _home_," she said simply, smiling and moving closer to sit down in front of him.

He gave a small half-smile, but still wasn't convinced. "This is a _tomb_," he said, sadness seeping into his voice.

Her smile faded, and she looked away from him to stare at the wall. "That's what T-Dog called it. And for a while there, I thought he was right."

Daryl looked down at the arrow in his hands, feeling like shit for bringing it up. Him and his damned mouth. He should've just-

"Until you found me."

He looked back up at her, and their gazes met.

What was she saying? That she was ready to give up on life before then? That she didn't have any more hope than he'd believed until he found her rotting in that cellblock, tired and dehydrated? That she'd run out of hope?

_...Was she saying he'd been the one to give it back?_

Daryl stared at her for a long moment - hell, a _few_ long moments - before finally letting his guard down and forgetting about any of the stupid ideas regarding her reaction to his leaving that had been floating around in his head.

He smiled.

It was small, barely there by most people's standards, but it was the best he could muster on account of he wasn't used to it.

Dixons didn't _smile_. The very thought was absurd! Oh, if Merle could see him now...shit, he hoped he wasn't in the next cell over.

Carol looked away under his stare, an awkwardness in her silence and a flush in her cheeks, but before Daryl had time to think about what that meant, she spoke.

"He's your brother. Your family."

She paused.

"But he's not good for you."

She closed her mouth, only to open it a second later when she caught the sad look in his eyes.

"Just don't let him bring you down. After all; look how far you've come."

She gave another soft smile, and they stared at each other for several long moments before things got awkward and they looked away, looking at anything _but_ the other person.

He wanted to say something else, to acknowledge that he cared about her opinion and his own personal progress over the past eight months, but nothing useful was coming to his brain.

He wasn't sure who opened their mouth first, but one of them spat out a chuckle and the other soon followed, and before he really knew what was going on or why they were doing it to begin with, they were laughing.

Giggles spontaneously filled the cell and echoed off the prison walls, and all was right again.

If there was one thing he could choose that he liked about Carol the most, and he only had one word to explain it, he could have easily done so in that moment.

And as their fit of laughter died, he knew that he was truly glad to have known Carol Peletier, with all her faults and imperfections, her company and absence, her clear head and helpful advice.

He could never replace this woman before him if he searched a hundred years.

And the word he would have chosen?

Forgiving.

She was forgiving.

Not blind to his faults and sins, but not condemning or judgmental either. She helped him when he needed it, gave advice when it was warranted, and shut her mouth when he wanted silence. She never made him feel bad about himself or his situation, and now he knew that he would never have to worry about what she thought of the decisions he made.

Yes.

The word he would have chosen would definitely be forgiving.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Up next: Cheeky.**

**See you tomorrow!**


	15. Cheeky

**A/N: 12/31/2014 WOO, we got a new year coming today, folks! Are you excited?! I hear 2015 is supposed to be a very good year in terms of money. Let's hope the 'experts' are right, eh? :D**

**AntoDixon****: Oh, wonderful! I'm glad you loved them! I AM doing well, and you're welcome! Thanks for your review! :D**

**wildcow258****: Thank you! Yes, Carol does seem to understand Daryl better than anyone else. And I agree, I'm sure if Rick or Hershel or any of the other would have told him his brother was bad for him, he wouldn't have reacted the same way. Your insight is always so interesting ;)**

**Prettyprincess45****: Dawww shoot, thanks again. You make me blush (=^.^=) **

**WhatWhereWhen****: Aww thank you so much! I'm glad you loved it! And yes, a lot of Carylers were angry about that too. Heck, even _I_ expected something more from that episode. But it _is_ Daryl, and Daryl doesn't 'do' feelings. I gotta say, I didn't really understand the reasons for why he acted the way he did on several points regarding Carol, but writing this has really helped me do just that. Glad you're enjoying the story, hope you like this chapter!**

**Poppy P****: Thanks! And yes, Carol is the only one who knows how to handle Daryl Dixon. She should write a handbook! How To Train Your Daryl. lol! :D**

**Terp4Life****: Ikr? I would be SO mad if I were in her position. At _first_. Then after I thought about it I'd realize that I would probably have done the same thing. Family comes first. Anyway thanks for your review! I always look forward to them :)**

**Reading time: 7-8 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

* * *

><p>Chapter fifteen: Cheeky~<p>

* * *

><p>A lot of things changed over the next few months.<p>

The Governor's attack on the prison failed, Woodberry fell, and now they were swamped with over a hundred 'newcomers'. Merle was gone now, too. He'd died, turned into one of those _things_. It was only right that he be the one to put him out of his misery, and that's what he did. It had been the toughest decision he'd ever made, and the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. The grief had been almost unbearable, and even now it was hard to think about.

Still, with all the others they had to take care of now, and all the extra supply runs and care and caution they all had to take to stay safe, he was usually too preoccupied to think about anything else but the task at hand, and for that he was grateful. At the same time, though, that wasn't always enough to keep his mind from wandering into places that weren't good for him. Grief was a funny thing, and to say Carol and the others hadn't helped him through it would be a lie.

They'd been spending a lot more time together lately, he and Carol. Or maybe it just felt like it because she was one of the few familiar faces among the countless others they now had to look after. Either way, he couldn't help the way his chest sparked with happiness at the sight of her short hair and bright eyes. She was an amazing person, dealing with his shit and everyone else's. But maybe that just came with being a mother.

Daryl walked along the outside of the prison, sleepy-eyed and hungry as Hell.

They had a lot more amenities now, one of which was an outdoor eating area with shade and a garden. There were already over 50 people out and about, getting their breakfast handouts and finding a nice spot under the awning to eat.

He continued walking, following nothing but the mouthwatering smell filtering through his nose with every breath.

Carol was cooking.

He wasn't surprised - damn woman knew her couisine.

Squinting in the morning sun, Daryl stepped under the shade and past the occupied tables and chairs, ducking his head and dodging the countless 'good mornings' thrown his way, answering back to only one.

A lot of people seemed to like him now for some reason.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate it - it was just that he hardly knew these people, and the _last_ thing he wanted to do when he woke up was engage in conversation. He wanted to _eat_. And the grey-haired woman standing behind the makeshift wooden counter stirring the morning stew was going to help him do just that.

Daryl walked up to Carol, who was paying close attention to the amount of spice she put into the stew.

"...Smells good," he said, trying to get her attention.

She smiled to herself, but didn't look at him. "Just so you know, I liked you first."

She lifted her head to meet his gaze, and he stared at her for the most confusing of seconds before realizing what she meant and brushing it off.

"Stop."

She smirked and went back to her cooking, and he continued to stand there as he racked his brain for another topic.

"You know, it wasn't all me. Rick brought in a lot o' these folks, too."

"Not _recently_," she replied knowingly, another smile on her face. "When you give a stranger sanctuary, keep them fed, keep them safe, you're gonna have to learn to live with the love that comes with it."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead opting to lift his eyebrows half-heartedly and look around him at the people he'd helped save. "Right."

"Hey," she said, getting him to look back at her. "I need to show you something."

Carol wiped her hands on her pants and called someone else to oversee breakfast. "Patrick, would you mind taking over?"

'Patrick' was a scrawny teenager with thick-rimmed glasses and an unnaturally mild demeanor, but he was alright. He wasn't that great a cook, but it wasn't like the kid couldn't watch over anything for a few minutes.

The skinny teen made his way over to the cooking station, eyes lighting up at being needed for something.

Carol turned to walk away and Daryl grabbed himself a bowl of food before moving to follow her, curious as to what she wanted him to see.

"Um, mister Dixon?"

He turned to stare back at Patrick, who looked like he was about to puke from nervousness.

"Uh...I just wanted to say, thanks for that deer you caught yesterday. It was absolutely delicious, and I'd be honored if I could shake your hand."

He held out his hand, all thin wrist and long fingers, and waited for Daryl to comply.

He didn't really want to - he was _obviously_ just trying to get on his good side and he really didn't want to bother with it - but Carol was standing there with him, watching and waiting expectantly for him to humor the kid so they could move on.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, Daryl raised his hand to his mouth and licked the stew off of each one of his fingers before taking Patrick's hand and giving it a good shake. _Least_ he could do was gross him out a bit for putting a halt to his morning routine.

But Patrick didn't seem bothered in the least; if anything, he seemed happy.

Satisfied, Carol turned and resumed her walk, and Daryl jogged to catch up with her as Patrick went back to his breakfast duties.

Carol led him to the edge of the courtyard, overlooking the countless walkers piled just outside the perimeter fences as various volunteers on fence duty took them out one by one.

"It's managable," she said, gesturing to the walkers before crossing her arms. "But unless we can get ahead of it, not for long. So I don't think there are gonna be any supply runs today." She turned her head to look at him, pushing out her lip in a pout. "Sorry, Pookie."

Daryl barely held off the blush fighting its way up his neck and into his face at the use of his 'nickname', but nevertheless recovered from his flustered state.

He let out a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and nudged her shoulder playfully.

She stared after him as he walked away, and he was somewhat glad that she didn't immediately follow.

He didn't know how to handle her sometimes - one minute she was joking, borderline _flirting_, and the next she was all business. To say it threw him for a loop was an understatement. He avoided her like _Death_ the first time she'd used that name, and it took him about a month to get used to it after he realized she wasn't going to quit.

He liked Carol and all, but sometimes, she could just be too damned cheeky.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Up next: Strong.**

**I think I speak for _all_ of us when I say I LOVED that scene. Pookie is freaking adorable, and we_ all_ know that no one else would be able to get by with calling him that ;)**

**The next chapter's gonna be another sad one, as Daryl and Carol will be separated, but don't worry because after that we'll have the glorious season 5 reunion ;)**

**See you next year!**


	16. Strong

**A/N: 01/01/2015 Seemed like there was something I was gonna say here, but I can't remember what it was...ah well :P**

**gibbymom****: Thanks, gibbymom! Glad to hear it! :D**

**wildcow258****: Yeah, he really was cute in that scene. Adorkable, even (and no, that wasn't a typo) XD She does throw him off balance, but I think it's good for him. He really needs to improve his social skills anyway ;)**

**Prettyprincess45****: Hahaha, oh you. Your review made me laugh XD I do that ALL the time! I'll be making funny faces while reading a fic and then someone'll walk in and see me and be like, 'WHAT'S THE PROBLEM?!' lol. Happy new year to you too! :D**

**Terp4Life****: Aww thank you so muuuuch! X3 I hope you're prepared with an arsenal of stress balls, tissues, comforting Caryl feels, and whatever else you might need, because the new chapter is finally here :)**

**Reading time: 6 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

* * *

><p>Chapter sixteen: Strong~<p>

* * *

><p>The day Carol ceased to exist in his world was a day he never thought would come.<p>

And now, after almost _two years_ of being with them, she wasn't a part of the group. How could she not a part of the group? Just _suddenly_ be cut from the team? She was a core member OF the group! She had seniority over nearly every one of them! It didn't make _sense!_

It had all _started_ okay - Rick had announced he was taking Carol out on a run - simple enough, right?

Even though in the back of his mind he knew it was odd - they _never_ went on runs together, it just wasn't done - he dismissed it and let it slide. After all, he reasoned, Rick was their leader. He wouldn't let anything happen to Carol. So imagine his surprise when Rick came back - alone - and said he needed to talk to him.

"Man, you couldn't have _waited_ 'til we got _back?!_" Daryl spat, whirling around to glare angrily at Rick.

"Until _Tyreese_ got back?" Rick countered, having seemingly prepared for this kind of reaction. "The man whose _wife_ she _murdered?_"

The prison had been overrun with a sickness recently, and apparently Carol had taken it upon herself to rid them all of infection by killing the first two people that had come down with the stuff and taking them outside to burn the bodies.

It wasn't that Daryl approved of her actions. That wasn't why he was angry.

He was angry because Rick had cut her loose without even telling them about it, telling anyone. There had been no trial, no discussion, no vote. He just_ did_ it. And that was something he wouldn't take lightly.

"...I coulda handled that," he said, though without as much conviction as he would have liked.

Rick was quick to shoot him down. "Hey, she _killed_ two of our own! She couldn't _stay_ here! I _had_ to let her go!"

Daryl turned his back on him, trying his best to deal with the _whirlwind_ of emotions he was having.

He wanted to punch Rick in the _face_. He wanted to find the nearest walker and stab the _shit_ out of it. He wanted to cry. He wanted to _laugh_ at the absurdity of it all. He wanted to fall to the floor in a heap and _die_. He wanted to...he didn't know what he wanted.

"She's gonna be alright," Rick said, trying to comfort him. "She has a car, supplies, weapons...she's a survivor-"

"Man, stop _sayin'_ that like you don't _believe_ it!" Daryl snapped, going from angry to livid in a second.

He hated it when people made assumptions about Carol, _especially_ when it came to her ability to survive. Did they think she was weak because she was small and skinny? A girl? Kind? Caring? Motherly? Everything a person was _supposed_ to be in the old world?

Did they think he hadn't taught her well enough or something? Did they _want_ her to die, so when it happened they could look at her and say _they saw it coming?_ So they could feel better about themselves? Were people really that _sick?_

"Look, she _did_ it," Rick said, stating the facts. "She _confessed_...She said it was for us. For the greater good. That's how it was in her head. She wasn't sorry for what she did, she didn't take anything back...she's not the same, Daryl."

"Man, that's her, but that ain't _her!_" he argued, trying to make him see his point.

He turned away from the sheriff, frustrated that he wasn't making as much sense as he wanted to.

It made sense to _him_ - Carol may have done something horrible, but that wasn't _her_, it wasn't who she _was_. Didn't that make sense? Of course it did. Just not to the overbearing sheriff standing five feet behind him.

"...What're we s'posed to do about those two girls?" Daryl asked forlornly, still not looking back at him.

Over time, Carol had come to care for two young sisters by the names of Lizzie and Mikah, after their father died from an unfortunate result of the sickness. She had taken them under her wing. And he'd be _damned_ if he didn't admit they were better for it. She was teaching them how to survive, how to live. Just like he'd done with her.

But now Carol was gone, and those two girls would have to handle this life without their self-appointed guardian. How were they supposed to cope with that? Who was going to be the one to tell them that their surrogate mother was no longer going to be there for them? How could someone _do_ that?

"I told her we'd look after them," Rick said after a while. "I...haven't told Tyreese yet. I don't know how he's gonna take it."

Daryl lifted his head and turned to him, a dimmed and controlled fire in his eyes, angry but resolute.

"Let's go find out."

He _wanted_ to leave.

He wanted to go find Carol.

But he knew he couldn't.

Because he was needed here. And he wasn't going to back out on the promise he had made to these people. No matter how much his heart screamed at him to go, his gut screamed even louder to stay. And a Dixon always trusts their gut.

_Carol would be fine,_ his mind told him.

How _couldn't_ she be? She was a survivor. Just like he'd taught her. Just like Rick said.

She would pull through.

And he would do _everything_ in his power to make sure that he saw her again.

He didn't have to worry.

She was strong.

And he didn't _need_ Rick or Glenn to convince him of that.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Up next: Alive.**

**Like everyone, I was really disappointed that Daryl didn't go after Carol after he heard about her banishment. But I also think that the reason he didn't was due to a bunch of little reasons that piled up into one big one. **

**For example, he knew that his place was with the group and he needed to stay and help out. He also knew that Carol knew how to survive, thanks to him, and if this had happened in an earlier season when Carol was still weak I'm sure we would've gotten the reaction out of him that we all wanted. I also think that, in his heart, he knew that he would see her again. Care to share your thoughts?**

**Also, we're gonna be heading into season 5 territory now, so for anyone that hasn't seen any of those episodes yet I both apologize for MAJOR spoilers _and_ hope that I am accurate enough in my writing for you to understand what's going on :)**

**See you tomorrow!**


	17. Alive

**A/N: 01/02/2015 Sorry I was so late with this one, guys, I meant to get this typed and posted early this morning, but I accidentally ended up spending the whole day painting a picture of Carol fighting off a bunch of Aliens with a flamethrower while protecting Mika :/**

**Anywho, WOW! Almost ALL of the people who reviewed said that Daryl would have gone after Carol if the Governor hadn't attacked! And I agree! I guess we're all in consensus ;)**

**Prettyprincess45****: Not a problem, you're here now! :D And yep, we got the reunion now. Hint: you're gonna love it ;) **

**AntoDixon****: Don't worry, they'll be back together before you know it! And thank you for your review! :)**

**hellsheep****: Ooh yes. _You_ know why ;) **

**Prodigium****: Yeah, that sounds about right. When I thought about it I didn't really find it odd that he didn't go after her either, like you said he's not a reckless little kid anymore. Thanks for your review, I hope you like this chapter! :)**

**wildcow258****: Yeah, it's always tough when a nice bromance gets disrupted, especially one like Rick and Daryl's. And hm, I've never heard that theory, but I bet it'd be pretty accurate if that was the way they'd decided to go with the show. Thanks for your review! :)**

**Poppy P****: Nice take! I also feel like Daryl wanted to tell Tyreese about what Carol did, just so he could prove Rick wrong (or right) and bring Carol back. And UGH! Your ideas! They're all so great! Why didn't I think of those?! And now I can't put them in there because this chapter takes place _after_ all that! AHH! D:**

**Terp4Life****: Aww! Don't worry! You'll be so _loaded_ with Caryl feels and happiness after this chapter, you won't even _remember_ you read the last one! I promise! :D**

**WhatWhereWhen****: Exactly! I agree wholeheartedly. And I don't really think they 'ruined' Daryl for the two episodes he was with Beth. Sure, I could've done with some references to Carol other than that Beth wasn't her, but I think if they ever made a novelization of those episodes Carol would most definitely be in Daryl's thoughts. He's not a very verbal person, and I can't see why he'd want to gripe about how much he missed Carol to Beth, someone he _hardly_ knows. Thanks for the review! :)**

**gibbymom****: Thank you! :)**

Note: PLEASE BE WARNED! You are about to be _overwhelmed_ with Caryl feels, so if you cry easily from happiness or you're in a public place, be careful. Otherwise, just enjoy ;)

**Reading time: 8 minutes of *cough*pure awesome*cough***

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

* * *

><p>Chapter seventeen: Alive~<p>

* * *

><p>Unfortunately, he never got the chance to talk with Tyreese.<p>

Shortly after Rick told him that Carol was gone, the prison was attacked. Apparently the Governor wasn't as dead as they'd hoped, and over the short months they'd been left in peace, he had amassed a small army. Ultimately the prison was destroyed, their home gone, and the group was in tatters.

He had barely made it out alive himself, and somehow, somewhere along the way, Beth had made it too. The time they would spend together would be nothing less than interesting; he never _dreamed_ he would want to help _Beth Greene_ check off her silly damned bucket list. He wasn't gonna lie, she wouldn't be his first choice for company in a world full of undead, but over time, he came to like her.

He saw a lot of Carol when he looked in her eyes; loving and kind with an iron will. It was like he was witnessing her change from the quiet, pathetic girl to a strong, independent woman all over again. It was beautiful and painful all at the same time, seeing his best friend and close companion in this slip of a girl, but he would take it over having nothing to remember her by at all.

And so he let his guard down, let himself warm up to Beth, let her get close. And he clung to that small part of Carol that existed inside her like a stray cat to a kind owner, and he told himself that it was just until he found her again. She wasn't replacing her - she could _never_ replace Carol - but if the years passed and he never saw her again, she would do. She'd have to. It was a small crime, and she was pulling him through. But even that wasn't meant to last.

On the fifth night out from the prison, Beth was kidnapped.

It was all so sudden - they'd found a small church, everything was fine, and then there were walkers and they got separated and the next thing he knew Beth was speeding away in a car with a white cross on its back windshield. And just like that, his small connection to Carol was gone.

And then Terminus happened.

A place of refuge, it said. Those who arrive survive. Just follow the train tracks and you'd be taken to sanctuary. He didn't believe it for a second. But Rick did. And Carl did. And maybe, just maybe, Carol did too. And so he went, trudged along with the others even when he'd lost hope. That place, however unlikely it may be, was his only chance of seeing Carol again, and maybe even Beth, too.

Though disappointed, he wasn't surprised to find it to be a Hellhole covered with pretty lights.

They were cannibals, _disgusting_ creatures that didn't quite deserve to be classified as human beings. They were _sick_, and they were _wrong_ and they were no better than the walkers they were trying to fend off. And he had almost died at their hands.

They'd taken he, Rick, Glenn, Bob, and a few others he didn't know into a room to be slaughtered and skinned and roasted like pigs. He noticed a few other unfortunate 'victims' across the way in another room, hanging from meat hooks like dead cows, and he nearly vomited at the thought of one of them being Beth or Carol.

They started with the strangers on the far end. They slit their throats one by one, and he decided that he wouldn't miss anything when they got to him. He would be glad to die. To be taken from this world, to never have to feel pain or loss or regret or anything ever again. At that moment, he'd been so _fine with it_. Calm and collected. At peace, even. But then something else happened to yet again knock him off kilter.

It started with an explosion.

And then another.

And another.

And then all Hell broke loose and suddenly they were running and shooting and gathering everyone up and hopping a fence and escaping that horrible place as it burned to ashes. It was when they stopped to take a rest and regroup that he was finally given reprieve from the torture he'd been through.

Rick had suggested they stop - count survivors, take a breather - and Daryl had been off a ways, still in the group but distinctly apart, leaning against a nearby tree to try and collect his thoughts.

He had been staring off into space, trying to unscatter his brain and _think_ of something but not being able to, when he suddenly got the oddest of feelings. He supposed it was one of those sixth sense things, where someone's watching you and you just know, but it was probably just instinct.

He looked up, searching the area for all of two seconds before his eyes landed on the source.

Carol was standing some feet away, beyond the group's circle and behind an oblivious Rick, looking like she was about to fall to the forest floor in a tired heap.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

It was _Carol_ standing there, just yards away.

His eyes widened, trying to make the connection that his brain couldn't.

It was Carol.

His breath hitched, suddenly realizing that this was actually happening.

_Carol_.

He didn't think, he just acted.

He _ran_ to her like a dehydrated man to a desert oasis, all but _barreling_ into her and wrapping her up in his arms.

His grip loosened when he realized she wasn't hugging him back, but then her arms wrapped around him and held him close, and he only held on tighter in response. His eyes had filled with tears somewhere along the way, and before he knew it, she was crying too.

Daryl locked his arms together and lifted Carol into the air, crying and smiling into her shoulder and breathing in her scent through all the death and decay.

He didn't care that her face was dirty, or that her poncho was covered in entrails, or that her hair was matted with blood. Because she there and she was healthy and she was real and she was _alive_, and that was all that was going through his head as he held her against him.

He carefully lowered her back onto the ground, afraid that this was all some sort of twisted dream and he would wake up and it wouldn't be real, or that he was already dead and God was giving him one last glimpse of Heaven before sending him off to Hell.

He felt a slight pressure near his shins and realized that it was the bow she held in her hand - _his_ bow.

It was stupid.

And dumb, and silly, and small.

But it only made him cry harder.

She'd remembered.

She'd been trying her _damnest_ to raise Hell and break them out of there and yet she _still_ thought to bring him back his bow. Carol damned Peletier was nothing short of amazing. A Godsend. A Guardian Angel.

Overwhelmed with emotion, he leaned forward and rested his head on her collarbone, feeling as though he would be unable to _breathe_ if he didn't.

Carol dropped the bow and automatically raised her hands to his head to hold him there, and he silently relished the feeling as she ran her fingers through his hair, feeling as though at any moment he would go weak at the knees and fall to the ground from how _right_ it felt, how perfect everything was in that moment.

He pulled back to stare at the woman who'd come so far to save them, probably gone to measures that even _he_ couldn't fathom, and felt a fresh wave of tears sting at his eyes as she smiled up at him with tears of her own.

She was alive.

She was alive, and _God help_ the person who burst that wonderful, perfect, _flawless_ bubble they were in.

She was alive, and as long as he held her nothing else existed.

She was alive, and that was all that mattered.

She was alive.

She was alive...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Up next: Pretty. Yaaaay! :D**

**I gotta say, I'm really proud of this chapter. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to get it quite right but I daresay I did. It's just how I want it ^^**

**I honestly think that the reason Daryl ended up going so soft in regards to Beth was because he saw a little bit of Carol in her. Not a _whole_ lot, mind you, just enough to cling to. Like maybe the old Carol that was still weak but wanted to be strong and wanted to survive. And I really think that all of the 'moments' they shared were just Daryl's way of letting himself be distracted so he didn't have to think about how much he missed Carol (like when they burned down that house) and I think he was kind of using her to help him get through being without her. What do you think? :)**

**Oh, and btw did anyone get the subtle song reference I put in there? :D**

**See you tomorrow! (or in a few hours, seeing as how I'm so late)**


	18. Pretty

**A/N: 01/03/2015**

**gibbymom****: The song reference was 9 Crimes by Damien Rice. 'it's a small crime and she's pulling me through.' You should check it out, there's an _awesome_ Caryl video on YouTube with that song :) And yeah, you're right! I never thought of it that way but I agree. I think Beth was a little sister type too, a replacement for Merle and a reminder of Carol. Thanks for your thoughts! :D **

**wildcow258****: Yep, season 5 has been a GREAT Caryl season so far. And yes, it WILL turn you into a mess when you see it, I know that's what it did to me (though I kept most of it reigned in because I watched it with my dad)! ^^ Yeah, I can see that. I never made the connection that they were both the younger sibling of their families, an interesting fact! I also think that maybe she was another Sophia to him, and that's why it devastated him all the more when she was kidnapped because he couldn't protect her. Thanks for the review! :) **

**Terp4Life****: Yay! Hope you like this one! :D **

**Reading time: 8 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

* * *

><p>Chapter eighteen: Pretty~<p>

* * *

><p>He wasn't sure how, or why, but things continued to go well after their reunion.<p>

The group was back together (for the most part) and they even had a few new additions to fill the roles that the lost ones left behind. Judith, Rick's baby, was still alive. Seeing the happiness and hope on his friend's face had been worth the trouble it took to get out of there, out of Terminus, and he was glad that he hadn't died at the hands of those sick people. If he had, he never would have gotten to see any of the beautiful moments that happened afterward.

And they even found a place to stay, too. They'd been walking through the woods when they heard a scream, and they rushed towards the source to find a young Preacher (or Pastor or Father; he wasn't good with that stuff) cowering atop a rock while several walkers tried to get a bite out of him. They saved the pitiful man, and after a hostile discussion and even greater suspicion towards him, they were led to his hideout.

They hadn't expected anything that was any more count than Terminus had been. How could they? When all the previous 'sanctuaries' they'd followed after like stray dogs had either been burned to the ground or turned out to be a place of horrors? No, they didn't believe the Preacher man for a second. Even when he lead them to a church, with safe walls and boarded doors, they didn't believe him. But they needed a place to stay, and they were tired and worn and they couldn't go on any longer.

And so they stayed, let themselves indulge in a happy night of laughter and good food, not unlike the time they'd spent at the CDC. Except that Sophia and T-Dog and Dale and Shane and...and hell, even _Lori_ weren't there like they should have been. But that was all in the past, and they had to focus on the present. _He_ had to focus on the present. There was no sense in mourning the loss of those long passed, not when there was joy and laughter and happiness echoing off the walls. And so he didn't.

As it turned out, the church ended up being a nice little place. He wasn't sure how the guy could have stayed there so long; even _with_ the boarded doors and mountains of canned food, he couldn't fathom how he didn't get looted or overrun or shot during the entire time this infection thing happened. Apparently Rick couldn't either, and it would only be a matter of time before they uncovered God-boy's dirty secret. Until then, however, he planned to make the most of it while he still could.

The next morning, he and Carol went out to collect some water in the spare jugs they had at the church, and he had hoped to use the spare time to catch up with her.

But she didn't do much talking, and she always kept the topic on the task at hand. He tried to ignore it, to push past whatever barrier she had come up with over the time they'd been apart, but she wasn't taking the bait. And it was on the way back from the river, with their full, dripping water jugs in hand, that he decided to just cut past the bullshit and get straight to the point.

"You know, we get to start over," Daryl said, not looking at her as they walked side by side along the empty gravel road. "Wipe the slate clean and all that."

He was trying to get her to talk, to say something to him other than 'we'd better head back' or 'this river looks clean enough', but so far his efforts were in vain. He wasn't about to quit, though. He would get her talking, no matter how long it took.

"You _saved_ us," he said sincerely. "All by yourself."

That got her attention.

"I got lucky. We should all be _dead_ right now."

Daryl stared at her, shocked at the contempt in her voice, but she wasn't looking at him.

She was looking at a car on the side of the road - in pretty good condition, too - just a few hundred feet away.

"...Let's check it," she said, ignoring the look he was giving her.

They hurriedly crossed the distance to the abandoned car, and Carol set down her water jugs to open the trunk.

There was some kind of generator inside, and it looked like it may have been hooked up to the car itself, but he was standing some feet away so he couldn't be sure.

The vehicle was the _least_ of his worries. Carol was the most of them.

_Oh, man,_ he thought, groaning to himself. _This was Merle all over again. _

They'd been close. Good friends who finished each other's sentences and knew what the other was thinking. And then they got separated for a while, and now that they were back things were awkward and weird and foreign and nothing felt like the way it used to be. And what was worse, Carol didn't even seem to mind it. If anything, she preferred the silence to the laughter and easy conversation they shared before, and he didn't know why. It confused the hell out of him, but that didn't mean he was giving up on her.

"We ain't _dead_," he said, trying yet again to get back into the grooves of their old friendship. "Whatever happened while you were out there..._happened_. Let's start over."

Carol looked at him then, a sad yet hopeful shine in her eyes, and said, "I _want_ to...I just don't know how."

She closed the trunk of the car and opened her mouth again before he could reply. "We should leave this here for backup in case things go south at the church."

And just like that, she was all business again.

Carol picked up her two water jugs and waited for him to move so they could continue their trek back to the church, and in a moment of either stupidity or genius - he wasn't sure which - he decided to offer a friendly gesture that didn't require any forced conversation.

Daryl looked briefly to the heavy water jugs in her hands before shifting his eyes back to her. "Want me to carry one of those?"

He lifted the water jug he was holding to gesture to the heavy ones in hers, only to have it slip from his fingers and thud to the ground in a dented heap as Carol moved out of the way to dodge the object he'd practically _thrown_ in her direction - it was a miracle the thing didn't spring any leaks from the fall.

Carol looked from the jug to him, lips playfully pursed, and Daryl's face went from pale to redder than a tomato in record time.

He stood there, frozen, waiting for the longest time for her to finally _say_ something so they could move past what was possibly the most embarrassing moment of his life, but she was having none of it.

Carol left him hanging a little longer, a mischevious light in her eyes, before finally gracing him with a long and drawn out reply.

"Mmmm..._no_."

She made it a point to grip the water jugs a little tighter in her hands, and moved confidently past him with a barely contained smile on her face.

It took him a minute to finally regain his bearings and pick up the jug he'd dropped and follow after her, but as they walked the rest of the way back to the group he realized something about Carol that had flown right by him in the past.

Smiles really lit up her face.

He'd never noticed before, but now he wasn't sure how he could have missed it.

He supposed it was just because he'd never had a reason to - Carol had always just been Carol to him, an invaluable friend and close companion who he had to remind himself from to time to time was a girl - but he sure was noticing now.

She looked good when she smiled.

Pretty.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Up next: Different.**

**I had to do a little research on this one, as I've only the seen the episode once, but I think I mostly captured it *shrugs***

**Most people think the famed 'water jug scene' was nothing more than a blooper they decided to keep in for comic relief. Aaaand I agree. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to capitalize on it for Caryl purposes ;)**

**See you tomorrow!**


	19. Different

**A/N: 01/04/2015 EDIT: Thanks to insight from a reviewer, this chapter has some slight corrections regarding the number of walkers in the shelter.**

**From this point forward, all chapters (save for the last) will be from the episode 'Consumed'. An absolute _must_ for Caryl fans, and I couldn't resist writing about the many moments they shared in it :)**

**Poppy P****: Yeah :3 I think that was the first and last time they would ever get a semblance of their old relationship back. Kind of sad, but nevertheless enjoyable when it happened. Thanks for your review! :)**

**wildcow258****: It was, it really was! XD I'm glad you're liking these scenes so far, and I hope reading them will enhance your experience for when you finally get to watch season 5. Thanks for your review! :) **

**WhatWhereWhen****: Haha no, _don't_ be afraid! I LOVE reading opinions on different fandoms and pairings! And ooh, I forgot about that scene in the woods! You're right, I could've written about that. Oh well, I'm glad you liked the scene I chose better. And I don't completely disagree with you on the Daryl thing, either. He _was_ OOC for the Beth episodes, but I don't think he was 'ruined'. It was kinda like watching the actors play out an AU fanfiction; not '****bad', but not great either. And very good points about Beth, too. I never really stopped to think about it (I was just waiting for the episode to end) but you're totally right! And I think the reason Daryl indulged in her silliness was because he knew that she never got to be a teenager, what with the apocalypse and all. I think it was nice that he helped her get it out of her system, lest she turn into another Carl. Lol thanks for your thoughts! :D**

**Reading time: 7 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Chapter nineteen: Different~<p>

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><p>There was something off about Carol.<p>

She was different, and he didn't like it.

After gathering the water and living through another nightfall, he had noticed her missing among the group. Worried, he went out to find her. And she was just where he feared she'd be - out by the car they'd found, packing what little she had and preparing to leave. _She didn't belong here anymore_, she'd said. _She didn't deserve this life, these people. S__he was too far gone._

Needless to say, he was hearing none of it.

He called bullshit on her ridiculous reasoning; she was _staying_, and that was the end of it. She wasn't useless or unneeded, like she'd said. The group couldn't do without her, _wouldn't_ do without her.

They needed her. Rick needed her, Judith needed her. _He_ needed her. And no matter how much she wanted to separate herself from them, thought she was unworthy, it didn't change the fact.

Carol was important.

Carol was loved.

Carol was essential to the survival of others.

And he wouldn't stand to let her leave on such unfounded reasons.

But just as he had her in a mindset to stay, the moment was shattered.

A car drove by with a white cross on the back of it - just like the one that took Beth - and suddenly they were _both_ getting in that little car and leaving without telling anyone.

And just like that, they were on their way to save Beth.

And _he_ was stuck in a car with an antisocial and unresponsive Carol.

They followed the car into a small town, but lost track of it due to their car running out of gas. Whoever they were, they were probably headed to the big city. And if it meant saving one of their own, that was _exactly_ where they would be, come morning.

With the car out of gas, Carol led the two of them to a shelter for abused women.

With some prodding, she admitted that she had been there once before, with Sophia. Before the infection. When Ed was still alive. He hadn't been able to get much more than that.

But that _didn't_ mean he would give up, and it was when they were safe and sound inside the shelter, resting in one of the guest rooms, that he decided to try once more to get her to open up to him.

"Why don't you say what's really on your mind?" He asked, leaning over to rest his elbows on his knees from where he sat on the spare bunk bed.

Carol didn't answer him right away, just continued to stare out the window and into the night, like she'd been doing for the past ten minutes.

But after the longest of pauses and the heaviest of sighs, she said, "I don't think we get to save people anymore."

Daryl's head shot up, surprised at her answer. Did she really think that? Did she really believe that they didn't have the means to help people anymore?

He should have been satisfied with her admittance, happy that she finally shared something resembling a personal thought with him since reuniting, but it only spurred his curiosity and concern even more. What happened to the woman he knew back at the prison? The one who was optimistic and happy and _cared_ about saving people?

"Then why are you here?" Daryl asked, wanting to know why she'd stuck around this long.

She turned to look back at him, using his own words from what he'd said earlier in the car. "I'm trying."

Wordlessly, Carol left her place by the window and walked over to the bed where he sat, sitting down beside him and lowering herself down onto the soft sheets.

It was a little distracting, being so close to another person when he was so used to his personal space, but it wasn't enough to stop him from questioning her further.

"...When we were out by the car," he said suddenly, and she shifted uncomfortably beside him. "What woulda happened if I didn't show up?"

_Would you have left?_

He lowered himself down onto the bed beside her, and Carol shifted to give him more room.

She sighed.

"...I still don't know."

An obscure answer, but he was pretty sure he knew what she was trying to say.

_I may have left, I may have not. But I probably would have if you hadn't come along._

They stayed like that, lying next to each other, staring up at the metal bars that held the top bunk securely over their heads. He wondered what was going through her mind, and he thought that maybe mirroring her position would give him some sort of insight.

Of course, he was wrong.

If anything, it only made things _more_ complicated between them, and he honestly didn't know if any aspect of their old friendship could be salvaged if things continued to go the way they were going. In fact, he-

A loud crash came from beyond the room, and they simultaneously sat up and grabbed for their weapons, preparing to deal with any walkers that had gotten in.

Daryl led the way and Carol followed, and the two slowly made their way down the hall and towards the source of the sound.

They didn't have to go far.

The sound was indeed that of a walker, three to be exact.

Their figures were obscurred by the smokey, rippled glass doors they were trying to break past, but their drastic differences in size and height made it clear; two of them were children.

Carol stilled behind him, and he froze as well.

It might as well have been Sophia or Lizzie and Mika behind that door.

Carol moved to stand in front of him, knife raised as she gripped the door handle and prepared to end the lifeless things on the other side, but Daryl's hand shot out to stop her.

"You don't have to," he said, trying to make her understand.

And it was true. She _didn't_ have to. She shouldn't have to deal with this, with _any_ of this. Hadn't she been through enough? Hadn't she already experienced enough pain and loss to last a lifetime over? It just wasn't right. And it wasn't fair to the woman who was still struggling with her personal demons.

"You _don't_," he said again, giving her wrist a comforting squeeze.

Carol nodded, and slowly lowered her weapon.

Silently, she turned around and headed back into the guest room, leaving Daryl to stare sadly at the little dead girls and their mother on the other side of the glass door.

He would get rid of them tomorrow, he decided. Just after she fell asleep.

He would burn the bodies, and she would never have to worry about them again.

Because if there was one thing he'd learned about Carol Peletier over the time he'd known her, it was that she couldn't handle having to take the life of another little girl. Another Sophia. Another Lizzie. Another Mika.

And it was then that he realized just how _wrong_ everything was between them. He'd been ignoring it up until now, but it was true. Carol wasn't the same. And she never would be.

She was different.

And he was going to make her better.

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><p><strong>AN: Up next: Tasteless.**

**I think that when Daryl went and killed those walkers for Carol, and burned the bodies so she wouldn't have to, was one of the nicest, most heartfelt things he could have done for her at that point. They both still mourn Sophia every now and then, and they both think of her when they see a little girl. So I thought it was just the greatest when he decided to take it upon himself and ease her burden. Thoughts? I love reading you guys' thoughts :)**

**I have deleted another upcoming chapter, seeing as how I couldn't find a place for it like I thought. The chapter (which was supposed to come next) 'Staying' was supposed to take place while they were at the shelter, while THIS one was supposed to take place while they were driving after Daryl saw the car with the white cross on it. I just hadn't realized how little actually happened in the car scene. So there will be 23 chapters just as before.**

**See you tomorrow!**


	20. Tasteless

**A/N: 01/05/2015 This was my favorite scene in the entire episode of Consumed. So I _had_ to write about it ;)**

**wildcow258****: Yes, Carol is struggling very much over Lizzie and Mika. It's sad, but at the same time hopeful for her character to have a new beginning. Assuming the writers give her one. Thanks for your review, as always, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! ;)**

**Prodigium****: Wow, really? It was real?! But it looked so unscripted! I guess it's just all the more for Melissa and Norman's acting abilities, they made it look so natural ;) Thanks for the review!**

**Terp4Life****: Obviously, I love your reviews. I've thanked you a million times, yes, but I just can't get tired of it ^^ And I agree! Daryl and Carol have totally switched roles over the seasons; now _Carol's_ the badass and _Daryl_ is touchy-feely and trying to draw her out of her shell. It's different, but I like it. And aww, thank you! I'm sure you'll love this chapter all the same! :) **

**gibbymom****: Yeah, I think so too. I think he was mostly just mad at himself that he couldn't save her so he lashed out at Carol. Thank you for sharing your thoughts, they're _totally_ not lame! :)**

**AntoDixon****: Thank you! This one should lift your spirits and get you laughing some! :) **

**Poppy P****: Okay, I looked back at the scene (because I've only seen it once) and from what I saw there was only one child. I'm not saying you imagined it, because maybe I just didn't see it all, but I'm pretty sure there was one adult and one child :P I would _totally_ rewrite that chapter if you were right, though, so if you've got evidence to back it up I'm all ears. And yes, role reversal Caryl is something to behold! Thanks for your review! :D **

**Reading time: 8 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Chapter twenty-one: Tasteless~<p>

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><p>The trail leading to Beth was wearing thin.<p>

After spending the night at the shelter, they'd decided to head out into the town and head into a building for a better view of their surroundings, hoping to find clues regarding the car with the mysterious cross that had kidnapped the youngest of the Greene girls.

The building they entered was chosen for its height, and from the looks of it, it was an office building of some kind once, though he hadn't cared enough to check for any confirmation.

Carol wasn't talking to him again.

She had only said two words all morning, and that was only to thank him for taking care of the two walkers back at the shelter. He'd been trying to think of something to say to get her to open up, but decided against it. Instead, he chose to think about what she could have been through that was so terrible she couldn't talk to him about it. His mind went through several different scenerios, each one worse than the last, and after they'd made their way half way up the building to stop and check if they were high enough to see anything, he thought that maybe he'd found the right one.

Daryl stayed quiet as Carol slowly opened one of the doors in the skinny hallway, looking cautiously around before going inside.

He followed, taking his time to examine the surprisingly well-kept office on the other side of the door as Carol went straight to the window overlooking the town and far-off city.

It was then that she spoke conversationally for the first time that morning, and he'd been so transfixed on the disgustingly simple paintings on the walls that he'd almost missed it.

"How did we get here?" She said to herself, voice a low whisper.

Daryl immediately tore his attention away from the_ eye-bleeding_ canvases and walked up beside her, looking out over the dilapidated buildings and overrun streets.

"...Dunno," he said truthfully, answering even though she wasn't really speaking to him. "We just did."

"...You still haven't asked me what happened," she said finally, getting right down to the point. "After I met up with Tyreese, the girls..."

She was right, he hadn't asked her. Because he knew that she didn't want him to. She still seemed to expect him to drag it out of her, though, like some parent who was disappointed in their child. But he wasn't going to that. This was a delicate situation, and even though he didn't know shit about how to handle stuff like that, he was damn sure gonna try. For Carol.

"Yeah, I know what happened."

And in a sense, he did.

Lizzie and Mika weren't with her, and that could only mean one thing. "They ain't here."

"_No_," she said, still staring out the window. "It was worse than that."

Daryl looked at the side of her face and away from the destruction outside.

Her eyes were filling with tears.

She was trying to keep it together.

Hell, she'd _been_ trying since they'd met up.

She might have been able to fool Tyreese and Rick and the others into thinking that she was okay, but he knew better. And she _knew_ that he knew better. And maybe that was the only reason they were having this conversation now.

"You know, the reason I said we get to start over," he said, getting her attention. "Is because we _gotta_. It's the way it is."

"...Yeah," she said finally, and the glassiness in her eyes seemed to go away a bit.

They stood like that for a while, just enjoying each other's silent company, when Daryl spotted something amidst the wreckage and destruction beyond the window.

Carol turned to him, noticing his change in demeanor. "You see something?"

"I dunno," he said, squinting even though it didn't help. "Have to get a better look."

Wordlessly, Carol shifted her rifle off her shoulder and handed it to him, which he took gratefully and steadily shouldered to make quick use of its scope.

His eyes didn't deceive him.

Far off, hanging off the edge of the bypass, was a van. A work van, white in color, with two _very_ familiar crosses painted on its back windows.

Just like the ones on the car they'd been following.

"Right there."

He handed Carol the scope, and she followed his pointing finger to the crumbling bridge.

"It's been there a while," she observed. "Definitely one of them."

"Definitely some kind of a lead," he agreed.

Carol hefted the gun by its strap back onto her shoulder and turned around, and his gaze following hers to the nice, clean water filter on the other side of the room.

"We should fill up," she said, and he agreed.

"Alright."

Carol walked over and began filling up their canteens, and Daryl took his time examining the fancy desk and plush leather office chair.

And then that _painting_.

"What is it?"

He turned around to see Carol staring curiously at him, having filled their canteens, and he couldn't resist sharing his opinion of the God-awful thing hanging on the wall.

"I bet this cost some rich prick a _lotta_ money," he said, gesturing to the ridiculously simple painting hanging above the desk.

It was just so _gross_.

All 'earthy colors' and wide brush strokes. Nothing to it, really. Hell, he'd bet the lil' _Asskicker_ could come up with something better than that.

Daryl wrinkled his nose at the thing, but when he turned towards the door to leave, Carol seemed to be appraising it.

_The hell?_ He thought.

What was there to appreciate about an ugly smear of dirty oranges and yellows and greens and browns? _Nothing_, that was what.

And yet she still looked at it, deciding.

Not quite believing his eyes, he decided to go ahead and further share his opinion, feelings be damned.

"I bet a dog sat in paint," he began, getting her attention when he lifted a hand to it. "And wiped its _ass_ all over the place to make this thing."

He demonstrated his point by making a dramatic sweeping motion with his hand, and Carol crossed her arms and gave him a look.

"Really? I kind of like it."

His eyes were nearly _covered_, his eyebrows sunk so low.

But then it hit him; _oh_, she must have been _joking. _Okay. He got it now.

Smirking, Daryl rebuked her with a light chuckle. "Stop."

She only crossed her arms tighter. "I'm _serious_."

His smirk faltered.

_Was_ she serious?

Apparently he took too long to answer, because a beat later she was heading out of the room.

"You don't know me at all..." she muttered, shaking her head and walking out the door.

He knew she'd meant it as a joke, but her tone implied differently.

Still, he wasn't about to let her believe that he didn't know her any more than he believed _that_ was a good painting hanging on that wall, even if she'd said it half-heartedly. He _did_ know her, no matter _how_ much she didn't want to admit it.

"Yep," Daryl said, keeping his tone light as he followed her. "Keep tellin' yourself that."

He took one last look at the ugly, dirtied canvas (he refused to call it a painting anymore), trying to figure out what she could have _possibly_ siphoned from it that resembled a positive artistic endeavor.

He got nothing.

Shaking his head, Daryl wrinkled his nose and shut the door, hurrying to catch up with Carol.

Damn woman was tasteless.

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><p><strong>AN: Up next: The World.**

**WOW! I've almost got 100 reviews from you guys! And this isn't even a real story! :O You guys are awesome. You just...I want you to know that. Really. You're beautiful, don't ever change :')**

**Only 3 more chapters until this thing is done! Can you believe it? I know _I_ can't! It makes me happy AND sad at the same time! :) :| :(**

**See you tomorrow!**


	21. The World

**A/N: 01/06/2015 Much of this chapter is actually from a chapter of _another_ story I had already written, which was an AU on how this scene could have gone (which I plan to get posted soon enough). Just a fun little fact.**

**wildcow258****: Haha thanks! I loved it too! And yes, getting to see Daryl and Carol have a conversation over something 'normal' was a real treat :D**

**WhatWhereWhen****: Aww no way! That is so cool, especially since that was one of my main 'keeper' scenes :D It's one of my all-time fave Caryl moments too. It's always really sweet to see the two of them talking about ordinary things (such as art) instead of zombies or survival. And yeah, I know, right? I was expecting an avalanche of fanfics too, and I was disappointed when I didn't get them :( And yes, as a matter of fact, I HAVE considered keeping this fanfic 'open', so to speak, for more Caryl moments in TWD when the rest of season 5 starts back up. I have a pretty beautiful ending planned though, so we'll just have to see ;) Thank you for your thoughtful review!**** Fingers crossed indeed! :DD**

**AntoDixon****: Thank you! I'm glad you liked it! And aww thanks (=^.^=) **

**Poppy P****: Oh wow, I didn't know I was missing so much without the widescreen version O.O Tell your kids they're awesome, and they have sharp eyes. And in fact, I know that there are parts of the us that don't get cable better than most (I've gone without wireless _internet_ for most of my life!) so don't feel embarrassed or whatever. Thank you kindly for correcting me on the number of zombies in that scene. I'll go back to that chapter and re-write that part. And about the 'keep telling yourself that' comment, you may very well be right (though I hope you're not, otherwise that means we've _missed_ an entire chapter of Caryl during those 8 months it took them to get to the prison!). Norman Reedus thinks of Daryl as a virgin, but Melissa McBride thinks that maybe Daryl and Carol have had something 'going on' during the gap between the 2nd and 3rd season that didn't quite work out. So you never know! ;) **

**Terp4Life****: Thanks yet again. You're terrific ;) And yes, one does love reading through a fandom they love, if only so they can see into their favorite character's minds :3 **

**Prettyprincess45****: Hey, glad to have you back! Thanks for all your reviews! And thank you again! I'm glad you like this, and I'm pleased to hear you'll stick around until the end ^^ **

**Reading time: 4-5 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Chapter twenty-two: The World~<p>

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><p>They were going over the edge.<p>

_They were going to go over the edge._

Daryl screwed his eyes shut, trying to control his breathing as he gripped the dashboard of the work van.

This was it.

After he'd spotted the white van in the office building, he and Carol had gone to check it out - maybe it would give them clues as to where Beth might be - when the bridge was swarmed with walkers. With nowhere else to go, they had climbed into the van and shut the back doors, looking in vain for something they could use to thin them out.

And now they were going to die.

All because of him.

Him and his stupid impulses.

And now here they were, sitting in an abandoned vehicle hanging over the edge of a bridge waiting for a herd of damned _walkers_ to push them over to meet their deaths, probably a hair's breadth away from finding Beth.

A hand covered his, and Daryl opened his eyes and turned his head ever so slightly to the right to see Carol smiling fearfully but softly back at him, her chest heaving with anticipation as she tried not to focus on the 200 foot drop beyond the windshield.

It was her way of forgiving him, he supposed, of saying it wasn't his fault they got into this mess and that she was sorry too. For Beth. For herself. For him. For everything.

The van gave a slight jerk as it was pushed forward, the groans of the hungry undead growing louder, and they wordlessly grabbed for their seatbelts and strapped themselves in.

He tried to smile back at her, but given their current predicament and the guilt he was feeling, he ultimately failed.

So he merely gripped her hand tighter, so tight it probably hurt, but neither of them was going to say anything in protest, and neither really cared.

They needed this.

Needed each other.

If they were going to die, he wanted the last person he looked at to be Carol. He wasn't sure whether to feel happy that his dying wish was coming true, or guilty because he was so selfish, but it hardly mattered over the uneasy churning going on in his stomach that drowned out almost everything else. Everything but him, Carol, and the ground that awaited them so far away yet so close.

The van gave another jerk.

He snapped his eyes shut, only to open them a second later. He glanced over at Carol, whose eyes were closed tight, probably praying for a quick death-

The van shoved forward.

They couldn't have much longer.

Daryl quickly ran his eyes over her face, trying to remember every detail of the woman he had come to call his friend, his companion, confidant...

His lips twitched, but didn't open.

He wanted to _say_ something, form some kind of coherent sentence that told her how much he cared about her, how important she was to him, how sorry he was.

But he couldn't; his vocal chords weren't working.

The van gave another jerk, as if reminding him. _Telling_ him that this could be the last time he would ever get to say something to Carol Peletier.

Gathering all of his courage and pushing it down with the rising bile in his throat, he wet his lips and opened his mouth...only to close it a moment later.

_No._

_Words wouldn't do._

They wouldn't be enough, wouldn't give him enough time before they went over the edge to communicate the _tidal wave_ of feelings he had towards the woman sitting strapped in the passenger seat beside him. How many countless, different, wonderful, strange, odd, imperfect, _beautiful_ things she was to him.

She was a mother.

She was a savior.

A survivor.

A friend. A companion. She was there, she was dead, she was alive. She was broken. She was reborn. Different. Alright. Irritating. Quiet, strong, forgiving, cheeky, sincere. Patient. Funny. Pretty. _Tasteless_...

She was so _many_ things.

She was everywhere and everything and nothing all at once. She was every fiber and every cell and every particle that made up the space around him, and the only thing holding him together now. She was all he could ever hope to find and all he would ever want in a person. She was _amazing_. She was...she was...

The van gave a last, final jerk, and Daryl stared at Carol, whose eyes were still closed, and squeezed her hand as hard as he could.

In that moment, Carol was the world.

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><p><strong>AN: Up next: Gone. Notice how I went over every chapter title so far and _then_ some? ;P**

**I got _major_ feels while writing this. I almost cried. Buuut it was probably just because I was listening to Still by Daughter, and the lyrics really fit the tone of this chapter, I think. Try it out, see what _you_ feel ;)**

**This scene in the show was the entire REASON I thought of making this vignette series. I thought about how they must have felt in that van, hanging over the edge of a bridge about to be pushed to their deaths by a herd of walkers, and I thought about how much Daryl must have been thinking about how much he cared for Carol. And then I thought of how in that moment, she was the world to him, because she would be the last thing he would see. And then I thought of the title for this chapter, and then it went from there. And now we're here :)**

**See you tomorrow!**


	22. Gone

**A/N: 01/07/2015 Tomorrow will be the last chapter! Is anyone else a little sad? :(**

**wildcow258****: Yep. It all centered around that chapter. I'm glad you appreciate it, and I hope you enjoy this one :D**

**Oncelived****: Ohmygosh your review, I loved it. I am SO happy you liked my writing for the previous chapter, and even happier that you think I conveyed emotions well enough to cry (even if metaphorically). Thank you! Lovex3 to you too! :)))**

**Poppy P****: Wow! Thank you! I was worried it wouldn't be that good, but I'm glad to hear otherwise! lol, 'kaleidoscope of emotion'. I love your wording XD Yes, it would be a terrible thing for the writers to do that to us. And aw, _please_, girl. We ALL live for those Caryl moments! We're all just a group of pathetic foolish saps for love between a widow and a hillbilly in an apocalyptic setting :) **

**Reading time: 7 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Chapter twenty-two: Gone~<p>

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><p>Strangely enough, they'd survived the drop.<p>

He'd been so sure they were going to die, _so sure_, and yet here they were, alive. Pretty much the exact opposite of dead. Carol was a little worse for wear, but she would live. She'd tried to hide it, but he saw. Her collar bone was broken, and she needed his assistance in getting away from the wrecked vehicle. But she'd be fine. She always was. They always were.

After the bridge incident, they'd stuck to the surrounding buildings and kept off the streets. It was only smart; too high a risk of running into walkers or the people that took Beth. And apparently, they weren't the _only_ ones who thought that.

While making their way across a skywalk and over into another building, they'd been robbed and stripped of their weapons by some young punk.

_You guys'll make it. You look like you can handle yourselves,_ he'd said.

He'd been right, but that didn't make him any less of a punk. And so they went their separate ways, he and Carol killing any walkers that might have gotten in their way with the spare knives they still had.

He wasn't quite sure how, since they'd gone into one building and he'd gone into another, but they crossed paths again with their thief some time later.

It started with an arrow he'd spotted lodged into a wall - one of _his_ arrows from _his_ crossbow - and ended with he and Carol accepting him into their group, if only temporarily. He wasn't sure how it happened, really - the little prick had almost gotten Carol _killed_, and in turn he'd almost killed _him_ - but he said that he knew where Beth was, and that was all he needed to hear. He wasn't about to blow their only chance of rescuing one of their own.

The kid's name was Noah.

He was alright, for the short duration he'd known him. He was still a little irritated over the whole crossbow thing - _no one_ took what was his if he had anything to do with it - but overall, the hatchet was buried.

Beth, Noah had said, was being held captive in a place, a hospital, called Grady Memorial. It served as a place of refuge for a group of cops, a witch of a woman and her deputy underlings. They'd go out, find people who needed help, take them to the hospital, and then make them stay in return for 'saving' their lives.

They didn't do it to be 'evil' - the people they saved were always put to use with cooking or laundry or gardening or what have you. Whatever they wanted you to do, really. But they were strict about making you stay, and you'd be sorry if you ever tried to leave. Noah had barely escaped himself, and that was only because Beth had helped him. And now here they were, on their way to save her.

Daryl, Carol, and Noah walked leisurely along the sidewalk of the empty city, keeping close to the buildings so as to avoid being too out in the open.

He was quite surprised that there were no walkers around, what with it being an inner city and all, but he supposed they were just where he couldn't see. So he kept his guard up, keeping his crossbow at the ready just in case.

They came to a shaded part of concrete thanks to the overhang of a building that went out far enough to require pillars to hold it in place, and Carol skipped ahead to the end of the sidewalk to look for signs of walkers or people.

She trotted out into the street to cross, apparently satisfied, and he almost opened his mouth to tell her to slow down so they could catch up, but two seconds later he never got the chance. He wished he could have savored those two seconds, because within them everything had been just fine.

There was a blur, the screeching of tires, a loud crash that rung in his ears, and suddenly Carol was on the ground, unconscious and nearly lifeless on the pavement.

It only took him enough time to blink for the panic and dread to wrap around his heart and grip it with all the strength of a _vice_, and he ran to her unmoving body with a singlemindedness that would have kept most people from stopping him. But Noah knew better. He caught up to him just in time, wrapping his long, thin arms around him and dragging him behind one of the nearby pillars to hide. And just in time, too. Not a millisecond later the people who had hit Carol got out of the car.

They were cops, probably from Grady Hospital.

They slowly moved towards Carol to inspect the damage they'd done, and Daryl struggled against Noah's grip to keep them from touching her. She was so still. It scared him.

Noah whispered countless words of comfort to him, but all he really heard was an unending stream of background noise as he watched the two men get out a gurney and carefully lift Carol onto it.

Daryl tried once more to wrench himself from the hold he was under, but in his grief was unsuccessful.

"There is _nothing_ you can do for her!" Noah whispered. "They'll take her to Grady! They have medical supplies there, _medicine! _She's gonna be okay!"

The words were heard but not understood, and Daryl weakly reached out to Carol as hot tears rolled down his face.

Seeing that it wasn't getting them anywhere, Noah released his hold on him, spun him around, and shoved him against the pillar to get him to listen.

"_Listen to me_," he hissed, dead-serious. "If you go out there now, they'll _kill_ you. And then she won't get _any_ help, and then she'll _die!_ Is that what you want?"

That got his attention.

Daryl listened to the sound of rolling tires and a fading engine, and he knew that they'd taken her.

And just like that, Carol was just...gone.

"What's it gonna take to get her back?" he asked, looking Noah dead in the eyes. The tears had stopped coming, and whatever hurt he'd been feeling was now replaced with vengeance.

"A lot," he replied, not bothering to sugar-coat it for him.

She was gone.

"They have..._people_."

Gone.

"Yeah?" he scoffed.

_Gone._

"So do we."

_Gone..._

By the time the word had sunk in, truly wrapped itself around his brain and forced him to understand what had just happened, and what he had to do now, he was already making his way to the nearest working car and dragging Noah back to the group with him. He was going to get her back. He wasn't losing another person. He _wasn't._

Noah was silent as they drove back towards the church, and Daryl didn't blame him. He was probably wondering how he'd gotten himself into this mess, but it didn't really matter. It didn't matter _how_. What mattered was that he _did_, and now he was in just as deep as the rest of them. And besides, he needed him if he ever hoped to get Beth or Carol back. And he planned to do both. There was no going back now.

Carol was gone.

And he would accept that.

But he was also going to bring her back_. _

And _that_ he could accept even more.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Up next: Home.**

**Though I plan for this thing to be finished tomorrow, I HAVE thought about keeping this 'open' for more Caryl moments in the remainder of the 5th season. We'll have to see ;)**

**See you all at the finale tomorrow!**


	23. Home

**A/N: 01/08/2015 This is it, guys! The final haul! :D**

**I'd like EVERYONE to know that NO, this ISN'T an official scene from the show (at least not the last half). Although I'm sure we all WISHED it was, it's just something from my imagination. I imagined Daryl being pretty shook up from Beth, and I imagine there would/should/could be a deleted scene where Carol comforts him.**

**wildcow258****: Yeah, it was pretty bad. Pretty good for us Carylers, but pretty bad for Daryl :( Thank you for your review, I hope you like the ending to this! :)**

**Poppy P****: Wow, it was Norman Reedus's birthday yesterday? Wow. I don't keep up with that stuff, but cool to know! And haha yes, be ever-so-grateful for your wonderful husband XD Thank you! I almost omitted the 'gones' in there because I thought it was corny, but I'm glad I didn't since you like it so well. lol, Daryl's quivering lip. That's funny. Hope you enjoy the end! :D **

**Terp4Life****: Aww, thank you! Yeah, I plan on going back and reading the entire thing from start to finish and then deciding on whether or not the changes were believable and fixing any typos and whatnot I come across. And hm, you're right, none of the chapters were called Badass. A valid point ;) I hope you enjoy the last chapter! ^^**

**Reading time: 8-9 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Chapter twenty-three: Home~<p>

* * *

><p>He was able to keep his promise, but only half of it.<p>

After going back to the others and getting a rescue team assembled, they headed back to the city, and, with Noah's help, the hospital where Carol and Beth were being held. They'd captured a few of the underling cops while they were out patrolling the area, and Rick planned to do a hostage trade with the woman in charge of Grady Memorial and the care of Beth and Carol.

They'd made it pretty far, too, s_o far._

They'd discussed the situation with their captives (apparently even _they_ didn't like the woman in command), negotiated with the others, and before he knew it, they were inside the hospital, doing the tradeoff. The air was so thick with tension in that tiny hallway you'd have to cut it with a _chainsaw_, and he'd watched intently as Carol was brought forward, only half-conscious, as Beth pushed her along in a wheelchair. They'd made it safely across the small but neverending gap between Rick's group and theirs, and he exhaled in relief.

Everything was was going perfectly.

Until it wasn't.

The leader of the Grady group, the woman, had changed their deal. Instead of simply trading her deputies for Carol and Beth, she wanted Noah as well. She was losing Beth, she'd said, and she wanted Noah to replace her and resume his place as her ward. He didn't like that idea. Rick didn't like that idea. And Beth _really_ didn't like that idea.

The young blonde marched up to her, that tiny, familiar spark of Carol flaring up with all its passion and glory, and said something that he couldn't quite hear that shook the older woman to her core. And then, in a moment that surprised everyone, she stabbed her in the chest with a pair of medical scissors.

He should have been proud. He _would_ have been proud, if he'd only had the time to enjoy it.

Just milliseconds after the initial shock of having scissors stuck into her skin, the ex-cop pulled out her pistol, aimed it at Beth, and fired.

Everyone's eyes widened in shock and terror as Beth hit the ground, and his reaction had been almost immediate. His eyes were absolutely _overflowing_ with tears, but it didn't make him any less capable of drawing out his own gun and blasting that horrible woman's brains out.

Around him, the others lifted their weapons, but the woman's followers insisted they didn't want a fight. _It was only about her,_ they'd said. _Just her. No one else. They could leave._ And that's what they did. They left.

He carried Beth's lifeless body out of the hospital just as Maggie arrived to see her sister's limp form in his arms, and as she fell to the ground in grief and they both cried over their loss, he couldn't help but wonder how.

How could it have ended this way?

They'd done everything right; _how could it have gone so_ _wrong?_

A thousand thoughts and a _million_ regrets passed through him over those next few hours, and in those neverending moments he'd thought he might _die_ from the incredible pain and sadness tearing an ever-expanding hole in his chest. Why couldn't he ever protect the people he cared about? Why? First Sophia, then his brother, and now this. It was just so wrong. It was _all_ wrong. _Everything_ was wrong...

Daryl gasped as another sob broke through him, and Carol gently shushed him as she held his head against her unbroken collarbone and slowly rocked him back and forth from her place in her wheelchair.

They'd been like this for a while now - he couldn't be sure of the time, but his head ached and felt swollen to the point of _exploding_, and Carol's lap was absolutely _drenched_ in tears and snot, so he'd bet quite a damn while - and he was still so shook up over Beth's abrupt and unexpected passing that he couldn't even find it in himself to thank her endlessly for the much needed support.

"Shh, shh, shh..."

Carol softly cooed to him, running her fingers through his hair. "It's alright. You're gonna be okay. You're gonna make it through this."

He almost laughed - she was treating him like a little kid, like _Sophia_ - but couldn't find it in himself to give her a reason to let go, no matter _how_ selfish it was.

Carol was _injured_, he shouldn't even be _touching_ her right now. But the thought, however true, didn't stop him from being coddled like an infant.

He supposed that maybe that was what he loved most about her; even though she felt like absolute shit - broken collarbone, bruised ribs, head probably _pounding_ with medication - she still put other's needs before her own. She was a true mother. Better than his, better than Lori. Hell, better than _all_ of them.

Another sob escaped him, this one significantly quieter than the last, and Carol stopped her slurr of comforting words and just held onto him, trying not to wince when he coiled his arms further around her waist.

It was so hard not to cling to her in his distressed state - he wanted to be gentle because _she_ was hurt, and he wanted to hold onto her with all his might because _he_ was.

It was a difficult impasse, but though he knew Carol wouldn't mind too much if he gave in to the crushing strength of his grief, he didn't dare bring harm to another person he cared about. He would _die_ first. No, he was perfectly content escaping the horrible world around him within the gentle confines of Carol's loving arms, and if he had to refrain from being as rough as he was used to in order to stay that way, if only for a few more minutes, that's exactly what he would do.

The silence, accompanied only by Daryl's quiet, fading sobs, became comforting and warm.

Whether it was because all the crying had drained the life out of him and there just wasn't room to feel anything else, or because Carol was there, was uncertain. He liked to think a little bit of both.

But now, with his mind clearer, he couldn't help but think; _what were they going to do now?_

They didn't have a home anymore; the church had fallen, and it wasn't safe any longer. And they didn't have a destination or purpose, either; Eugene had lied, he wasn't a scientist with the ultimate cure. What _did_ they have? _Any_ of them? _Really?_

But he already knew the answer.

They had each other.

Sasha had her brother, Rick had Carl and Judith, Maggie still had Glenn. But what about him? He didn't have anyone. Not Sophia. Not Merle. Not Beth.

But he still had her.

Carol.

And if _she_ died, if ever a time came when she couldn't soldier on and pull through, didn't make it for whatever reason, he would be truly and utterly alone. He would have no friend, no confidant. No one to laugh with, or cry with. No reason to stick around with the group other than the loyalty and thinly stretched friendships he'd formed.

But it also didn't matter.

Because from that point on, he was going to savor _every second_ of time he had left with her. Every secret, every smile, every glance, every laugh, every fight. He didn't doubt that at some point she would be taken from him, either by her death or his, and he planned on taking every ounce of her in like a shot of moonshine or a damned artistic masterpiece.

Because he didn't know how much time they had, how many more hours they'd be allowed in each other's presence, how many more seconds they'd be granted before things went to Hell. And as he sat there cradled in her arms, he swore on Beth's _grave_ that he was going to enjoy every waking moment with this woman who was somehow still alive when all the odds were stacked against her, like he _should_ have done with everyone else he'd lost.

Beth would have wanted that, his happiness. And so would Merle. And though he hadn't been fortunate enough to get to know her while she was still alive, he bet Sophia would want her mother to be happy, too. Carol had grown _so much_ over the time they'd known her, from the moment they'd met on that highway to the moment they were sharing now.

To some, she was a mother.

To others, a survivor.

To Daryl Dixon, she was home.

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><p><strong>AN: The last line had kind of a dual meaning; Carol was home, with them where she belonged, and she was also home to Daryl in the sense that 'home is where the heart is' and all that :)**

**This was pretty hard to write. The only thing I really knew for certain was the ending, but I think it turned out okay. ****With this out of my system, I should be able to hurry up and update all my other fanfics before the month is over.**

**Just for the record, I AM going to keep this story open. Although it says 'completed' in the status, I may very well add onto it with any other Caryl moments from the remainder of season 5. So if February comes around and you see a good scene worth writing about, you can check back here and see if I thought the same (which I probably did) ;)**

**I've also got 2 or 3 other ideas for Caryl fanfics, one of which I've got the first 5 chapters finished (it's an angsty but heartfelt 'Axel lives' story) and hope to get posted here real soon. So IF you liked my writing enough to try out another Caryl story from me, stay tuned for the remainder of this month (though probably within the next week or so) ;)**

**I'd like to thank my legs for supporting me, my arms for constantly being by my side, and my fingers; I can always count on them. **

**LOL sorry I couldn't resist.**

**But seriously, though, thank you for:**

**1. Looking**

**2. Faving**

**3. Following**

**4. Reading**

**5. Reviewing**

**7. Checking this out**

**8. Not checking this out and accidentally clicking**

**9. Not even knowing this story exists and being in another tab**

**10. And...ten XD**

**Feel free to fave and review, or both, or neither, or nothing at all :D**

**'Til next time!**


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